Lock That Sht Up
by CMW2
Summary: BABE AU from One for the Money 2012  - NOW A WIP:Steph takes Ranger's shower curtain advice seriously, impressing him and leaving things open for their psuedofriendship to become something much more fun;Rated for language and spice;4th in my 2012 SSS Project
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Howdy, y'all. This illness insomnia induced little ditty is inspired by the shower scene in the movie (and possibly the book…I haven't read the book yet) and how my Babe self would've preferred things to end at the end of the movie and book. The title comes from a line from the delicious Daniel Sunjata who played our (yes, he belongs to us…) delicious Ranger spoke and I hope you guys enjoy. **

**PS: This isn't related to my other JE stories and my Stephanie's decided to toughen/smarten up from the get-go, making her a bit OOC. After all, mortal peril has a tendency to make people decide to evolve. It's up to you guys if this is continued or not (I'm leaning towards yes) so let me know if you want it.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd **you** get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and **lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money****(2012)**

* * *

><p>"I wouldn't do that if I were you."<p>

Huh. I think I actually managed to surprise him. Putting on my best sashay (with a slight limp from my wound), I set down my groceries and moved him out of the way with my good hip. Pulling my keys out of my pocket lanyard (one of those black clip things with a tape measure like wire inside), I pushed the small black button behind my new car key. A soft buzz sounded from my lock and then I gestured for him to continue picking the lock. Ranger blinked at me owlishly and after about 5 minutes, we were inside. Setting the paper bags on the table, I gestured for him to come squat by the doorknob. Using a nail file, I undid a couple of screws and then slid my Mad Genius creation into view.

"I put the main part of a taser inside my doorknob and wirelessly connected it to the button here. If I hadn't turned it off, you would've been in for a rather _**shocking**_ situation. Amazing what you can learn on the internet, huh?" I said with a light nudge for the pun.

He snorted and then looked at it closer. His approving nod sent a warm jolt through me and I smiled shyly as he looked me calmly in the eye.

"This is good, Plum. More than I expected from you, honestly." he praised as I put it back together quickly.

"Eh. I admit that it takes a lot for me to listen to someone but when I do, I go balls out. Well, sorta. You said lock this shit up and I did with a little extra. What're you doing here, anyway? It's high noon. Perfect time to be saving the day…"

Yes, I just teased Ranger. His whole body language screamed "Fuck with me and you die" but I couldn't help it. He's always so serious and deadpan, kind of reminding me a much sexier version of the teacher from Ferris Bueller. I just want to poke him with a stick a little, see if I can get past his blank face and to the real. Why? I don't really know. Most of my "Jesus Christ, Stephanie!" decisions can't be explained easily or at all…

"I came to see if you were all right. Getting shot's a bitch and word on the street is that Morelli's out for blood. Something about you locking him in a meat truck with dead people and a crooked street fighter…"

"Hey, he deserved it! His Oh, Yeah Cartoon idea got me shot and you already know about the Cannoli…"

Of _**course**_ he laughs at that. Of course…

"..so I took an opportunity for a little bit of revenge. I like revenge, it's fun and I already know he's after me, hence my super doorknob. It might only slow him down but he'll be in a world of hurt, making it easier for me to get rid of him."

I started unloading groceries and after a minute, he started to help me, putting a couple of the apple slices in Rex's lair before leaning against the door jam.

"I'm surprised that you _**want**_ to get rid of him. There's obviously some history there…"

Is he fishing? He _**is**_ fishing! Maybe I'm not the only terminally curious person in this pseudo-friendship, after all…

"Bad and ancient history. I'm always gonna have a soft spot for him but at the end of the day, he's a goddamned prick and I swore on the unshed blood of both Ben and Jerry that I wouldn't get into any sort of relationship with another prick after my ex-husband."

"You were married?"

"Yeah. It was more to shut my Ma up after I hit 30 than love but I was married. Dickie Orr, attorney at law and a cheating scum sucking jackass. Not a month after we said I do, I came home to find him screwing Joyce Barndhart doggie-style on the brand new dining room table."

"Ouch."

"You're telling me. What about you? Is there a Mrs. Ranger hanging around here someplace?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Why are you trying to answer my question with another one? Look, if I can tell you about my bad judgment with Morelli and The Dick, then you can tell me if you're hitched or not, okay? Quid pro quo and all that good stuff."

A look passed through his eyes that made glance towards my cookie jar turned gun safe but he just nodded curtly.

"Does that mean yes?" I pushed.

"Plum."

"Ranger."

"No, I'm not married. I was for a brief time, though."

"I know she wasn't stupid enough to cheat on you."

"Babe.", he chuckled.

"What? You're hot."

"I am.", he conceded modestly, making me roll my eyes. "And no, she didn't cheat. I was…I made some damn dumb decisions in my teen years and one of them was getting my girlfriend at the time pregnant. Since I was raised to be a decent man, I asked her to marry me on the spot and we stayed together through my time in basic training. After that, I signed my parental rights over and she divorced me."

"Why?"

"Like I said, I was raised to be a decent man and I knew that I'd be a lousy father. I didn't want to screw Julie up so I did it. Rachel wasn't too happy with the decision, obviously but she accepted it after I got into the Rangers. I guess she realized the benefits of not having to give the 'Papi's not coming home' speech. I send money on her birthday and Christmas and she sends me a school photo of her every year."

I absorbed that and then handed him a beer, popping the top off of one for me.

"Should you be drinking with your painkillers?" he asked after a pull of his.

"I take them at night. It hurts the worst when I'm trying to sleep. Sorry for bringing up bad memories."

"I didn't have to tell you."

"You did, though. Why?"

"Why'd you tell me about your ex?"

"Because even though I've just met you like 5 minutes ago, I like you and I know I can trust you."

"And there's your answer."

"You like me?"

A 200 watt grin lit up his face and I gulped. Be still, my heart…

"I don't get shot for people I don't like. You got balls, Plum and with the right training, I think you can pull off being a bounty hunter."

"You really think so? Everyone else thinks I'm nuts."

"A little insanity can go a long way, Babe." he replied with a small shrug.

I chuckled and frowned as a somewhat familiar car chirp went off. Moving to the windows facing the street, I saw Morelli heading towards the building, a medium sized cupcake in his hand.

"Motherfucker!" I swore before putting the chain on my door and turning my deadbolts.

"Morelli?"

"Yep."

"You gonna use your new doorknob?"

"Not until I know it's legal. I don't want to get booked for assaulting a cop."

"Shouldn't you have looked that up _**before**_ you installed it?"

"Shut up, Ranger. And get out of sight."

"Really?"

"Really, really. Now, scram!" I hissed as I attempted to shove him down the hall towards the bathroom. He caught my hands and looked at me with renewed flatness. Shit. There goes my progress…

"If you two are ancient and bad history, then why am I scramming?"

Good question. Before I could come up with an answer, Morelli was knocking at the door. I let my breath hiss out through my teeth and latched onto the first plan of action I could think of. Reaching forward, I undid his Kevlar vest and messed up his hair. He must've picked up on my idea because he lowered one of my bra straps and raked his hands through my hair a few times to give it a freshly tumbled look. Giving into the impulse, I pressed a hard kiss to his lips (just to swell them up a little…) and he bit down on my lower lip, sucking hard enough to bruise as he shoved me against one of my sliding doors. Damn, is that his tongue and is his hand on my…_**mmm**_…

"_Hey, come on, Cupcake! I know you're in there!_" Morelli hollered through the door.

Forcing myself away from Ranger, I went to the door and pulled it open just enough for him to take in my heavily lidded and love drunk face. I licked my lips to get more of Ranger's sweetness on my tongue and turned my accent up a couple of notches.

"Whatta you want, Morelli? I'm a little busy at the moment."

If I wasn't so discombobulated from Ranger's knee melting kiss, I'd be laughing my ass off at the look on Morelli's face. He looked like he had just stepped in dog shit and gotten his nuts caught in a bear trap at the same time. Any amusement was forgotten as a warm mocha latte hand spanned my good hip and Ranger rested his head on my shoulder. His pants were undone and he ground slowly against my ass, making me shiver. Good god. Best idea _**ever**_, Plum…

"Morelli." he greeted in his own accentuated accent, snapping him out of his stupor.

"What the fuck is he doing here, Stephanie?" he demanded sharply.

The evil side of me made my half dazed reply of "Me."; slip out with nary a hesitation. Ranger hid his chuckle in my throat and started nibbling at it nicely. The effects of my going on 3 year dry spell hit me in the gut and slid down deep into my panties, making me hot and wet at warp speed.

"_**You?**_ Do you have any idea who this guy is?"

"Ricardo Manoso. Ranger. I m-met him while chasing you down and we clicked. He...he's gonna teach me how to be a bounty hunter without getting dead or maimed."

"Yeah, he's teaching you, all right." Morelli grumbled sullenly, making the Rhino begin to rise.

"Why do you care? I haven't seen you in over 10 years and now you expect me to just let you back in my life like it's nothing? No dice, man. I told you it was about the 50 grand from jump street and it's not my fucking fault if you didn't believe me."

"Don't swear, _**Querida**_. He's not worth it.", Ranger murmured as he nuzzled into my shoulder.

"He pisses me off, Ric!" I whined, going along with it. My hormones are screaming "Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!" and I have a happy feeling that I'll be getting well acquainted with the torpedo against the small of my back shortly…

With a last suck of my neck, he pulled away and ordered with silky steel, "Get rid of him. I'll be waiting in the bedroom."

I gulped and watched him go, the view awe-inspiring, and then looked back at a fuming Morelli.

"Bye.", I deadpanned.

"You've gotta be kidding me!"

"I'm not. Bye. Don't come back."

"Stephanie!"

Reaching through the gap, I snatched the half crushed cupcake out of his hand and slammed the door hard, clicking on my Lock Shock before taking a big contented bite of the pastry.

Hey, he may be a prick but I've never been one to turn down a cupcake.

A throat cleared and I looked up to see a blank faced Ranger. His eyes were a whole different story, though…

"You know…he's not gonna give up very easily. It might take a while before he gets the hint."

"Knowing Morelli, he might never get it."

"Good."

"Huh?"

"Good. I like you, Stephanie. A lot more than I should in such a brief period…and damn, do you know how to kiss."

"Eh, I do all right. So, what? You wanna make this into something?"

"Yeah. Oh, for the record: it's Carlos."

"I thought your first name was Ricardo."

"One of them. The other's Carlos and that's what I go by. I like it better. I'm definitely gonna like hearing you scream it."

And I'm definitely gonna enjoy screaming it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: All right, then. Looks like I'm onto something here. I've always wondered what things would be like if Steph and Ranger became true partners in the field, in life, and in the bedroom without that pesky love triangle nonsense and this here's gonna explore that. Now, it's time for our heroes to explore each other for the first of many times. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>The next time my mother scolds me for being impulsive, I'm just gonna smile and laugh.<p>

Going off of my high of shutting Morelli down, I decided to take the reigns and shove Ranger down to my bed. Before he finished landing, I was on him and sucking on his neck like a vampire. He tasted sweet and spicy, like cinnamon and chocolate and I was determined to see if he tasted that way everywhere. Ranger's hands slid under my pink and purple sundress and the thing came off easily. I was in my pretty light grey demibra and cheeky boyshorts, the fabric far away from my now band aided wound. His eyes were blazing as I let my hair flip over one shoulder, showing off the blooming love bites he left at the door.

Sliding my hands down his 8 pack, I unzipped his cargos and reached in, pleasantly surprised to feel nothing but skin. Commando for the Commando. It fits…

He laughed and I blushed.

"Did I say that out loud?"

"You did."

Oops. Oh, well. Getting him out of his pants, I felt my entire lower half coil like an eager spring at the sight of him. Good god in heaven, how is he gonna fit in me without splitting me in half? The prospect was more sexy than frightening but still…

"_**Oh, my God**_…" I growled as his fingers slid under my panties, rubbing tenderly at my aching clit. Ah, yes. That's how. Moving into his ministrations, I started moving his shirt up his torso and he twisted until I could chuck it in the direction of my dress. Knowing fingers undid my bra with a snap and his lips closed around a nipple immediately. Normally, I wished my breasts were a little bigger but the fact that one of them could fit in this gorgeous man's mouth easily definitely worked in their favor. He sat up and held me to him, going between both of them until I was mewling at him.

"_Carlos…"_

"_**Hmm?**__"_ he purred, toying with my 'S' necklace as he nuzzled my sternum.

"_Please…"_

"Please what, Babe? Touch you, lick you_… __**fuck**__ you?"_

"**Yes!**_** Especially the last one!**__"_

He snorted and put me underneath him, supporting himself on one hand as he carefully slid off my sodden panties. I was squirming underneath him, trying to thrust myself onto him and his hands held me down by the shoulders. Keeping his gaze on me, he fetched his wallet and pulled out a condom, sheathing his twitching member with practiced ease.

"I'm on the pill." I assured him softly. I forget about a lot of things but never my pill…

"My family is fertile." he replied bluntly before capturing my lips in a devastating kiss.

Wow. I didn't know men knew how to be that honest, especially in times like this, but I certainly appreciate it. My eyes bulged as he began to enter me, a loud groan escaping him as my body tried its very best to take him. I'm rather small down there and Ranger is…well above average. As in hung like a damned donkey or maybe an elephant…oh, _**god!**_ Is this what Madeline Khan felt in _**Young Frankenstein**_? No wonder she had hit all those high notes…_Jesus_…

"_**Ooh**_…" I groaned, my whole body shivering with want and pained pleasure.

"**Do not move**." he said in a strangled tone. "If you move, I'll blow. _**God, you're tight**_…"

I whimpered and locked my legs around him, my foot traveling up and down his calf. A visible shiver went through him and he slowly, slowly started to move. Moans and groans escaped me and I nibbled at his ear, the pain quickly being outweighed by the sheer bliss of having him inside me. He was warm and silk over steel, an intoxicating scent of soap and male making my head swim. I ran my hands over his back, rubbing and scratching, noting what he liked more. I marveled at the contrast between our skin tones and squealed softly as he brushed against my G-spot all on his own. The others had practically needed a GPS…

"Not me, Babe…I know how to please you…" he murmured confidently as he did it again and again and again…

A loud cry escaped me as his mouth returned to my breasts and he growled in delight as my nails dug into his back. Ranger likes it rough. I can give it to him rough just as long as he doesn't stop. We had found a rhythm of hard, deep thrusts and he tilted my hips up so he could brush against my clit when we came together. My mattress was squeaking and my headboard clanged as we both gripped it for leverage, his hand on top of mine. Our eyes met and I could tell that it was just as intense for him as it was for me. What is this? How is it like this so soon? Why am I attached to this guy so quickly?

And more importantly: why is he attached to me so quickly?

Our lips met again and I could feel my orgasm begin, my tunnel quivering faster and faster until I broke the kiss with a piercing shriek of his name, my head going back as I arched. His hips braced me and I gripped him with white knuckles, screaming and moaning as my climax shook and rocked me. His teeth sank into my shoulder and both of his hands thrust me up onto him a half dozen more times before he joined me with a muffled yell. Looking, I could see his toes curl into my sheets and I pressed sloppy kisses to his shoulder as he finished. Good…so…fucking…_**good**_…

I wheezed for air and threw an arm over my eyes to try to make the world spin a little slower. Dimly, I registered him disposing of the condom and soon, I was covered by him and my discarded blankets. He was heavy but not too heavy and I sighed deeply, relaxing into my pillows fully.

"Holy… fucking… hell." he rasped after a couple of minutes.

"That pretty much sums it up. So…I'm your friend, your bounty hunting padawan learner, and definitely your lover, now. We are going to do this again in many ways and in reasonable places, regardless of public opinion. Non-negotiable."

"Agreed."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: I'm glad you guys like my twist on JE's early universe and I'm looking forward to continuing this story, as well as Butterfly. I haven't forgotten about it but the Muses are hot for this one. Anyway, now that our heroes are together (in more ways than one), it's time for Padawan Plum's training to begin. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>They've got to be in here, someplace. FMPs…FMPs…bunny slippers, canvas sneakers…my black and silver clubbing boots…a pair of lace up Doc Martens (I'll probably be needing those soon)…more FMPs…another pair of slippers…goddamn it, I know they're still…<p>

"Aha!" I crowed triumphantly, holding a pair of barely used champion running shoes up by the laces. They were the same shade of purple as my last name with bright green detail. The laces were an obnoxious shade of neon pink and I sat down on the edge of my freshly made bed next to him. I had on my ratty old black college t-shirt on and dark grey sweats to match my ankle socks. His lips quirked at my art deco shoes and I maturely stuck my tongue out at him as I tied them tightly. If god forbid, something happens to me out there, I know that no one else has shoes like these babies. They're as good as dog tags or a state ID…

Grabbing my gun out of the cookie jar, I put it in my pocketbook and took another spoonful of oatmeal. Ranger had actually found a way to make it healthy _**and**_ delicious. He had half of a grapefruit again and I had put a little honey on it like my Grandpa Mazur used to before kissing his brow. It had been a sweetly domestic scene. In fact, ever since I first took off his Kevlar, things have been sweet…

After making love twice more, we had fallen asleep in each other's arms and I had woken up to him trailing kisses down my back. He ought to thank every God that he's so fine because any other person waking me up at 5:00 in the damn morning would've gotten their balls in a cheese grater…if I had a cheese grater. After soothing me into a semi-awake state, he had guided me to the shower (with its brand new checker print curtain) and said he would cook for us. Like it was all an every day thing. Would it be an every day thing?

I'm kinda hoping that it will.

"Okay, so how is this gonna work?"

"Today, I'm gonna take you through some basic fitness drills at the high school. See where you're at."

"Carlos, I'm in lousy shape. I can tell you that right now."

"I need to know just how lousy so I don't under or overwhelm you. I don't want to hurt you, Stephanie."

"All right, then. If I pass out or throw up on you, I'm sorry."

He exited my place first and I carefully locked up behind us. Although things have calmed down skip-wise, I'm pretty sure that Morelli won't be heeding my words from yesterday for long. Once his ego stops smarting, he'll be back and I'm definitely willing to get arrested to keep him out of my place. Hell, there may be a patent pending for my little Lock Shock gadget. Who knows?

As we descended the stairs, his hand slipped into mine and without thinking, I twined my fingers with his again. I love his hands. They're strong but soft where they need to be and always so warm. Looking at his profile, I was amazed to see a slight tinge of pink to his cheeks. I can't believe it. He's seen and touched all of me with no hesitation but he's shy about holding my hand?

"I haven't held a woman's hand like this since I was in 9th grade, okay? Get in the truck." he grumbled with a small smile playing at his lips.

"One sec. Hand me that forked stick over there, will ya?"

He did so and I stuck my square mirror into the gap. Moving like I saw on Nat Geo documentaries on border patrol, I held the mirror to the underside of his truck, checking for anything weird. Last thing I want is for either of us to end up like Morty Bryers. The guy had been a smug little prick but he definitely hadn't deserved to be blasted to the 8th Dimension in a fiery ball of car doom.

"I don't see anything weird, do you?"

He was looking at me with the same look from my Lock Shock explanation and I asked shyly, "What?"

'Training you is going to be a lot easier than I thought. You're already applying Lesson 1: Always be aware of your surroundings and no, I don't see anything weird."

_**/**_

Oh god, I'm gonna die. I'm proud of myself for not throwing up until the end of my "basic fitness evaluation" but yeah…definitely gonna die. Just stick a fork in me, ladies and germs. Little Stephanie "Walking Disaster" Plum's going up to the spirit in the sky…

I retched one last time and met Ranger's concerned gaze sheepishly.

"At least I made it to the trash can."

He passed me a dark blue Gatorade and I drank in slow sips, trying not to aggravate my roiling stomach further. I made it one and a half laps around the track, did 20 pushups (with him showing me how to do the real ones…not the girly ones), 20 sit-ups, and he had helped me do 10 pull ups near the long jump pit. My legs were rubbery, I was wheezing like a racehorse, and I definitely smell like a trucker. A hungover trucker since the sweat smell's now blended with the aroma of puke. Oh yeah, I am a sexy lady…

"You actually do look sexy when you're all sweaty but we can revisit that later. Do you feel dizzy?"

"No, just lame. You got your work cut out for you, Solder Boy."

"You did a lot better than I expected."

"I did a lot better than_** I**_ expected. What's next?"

"Gun range."

"Now, that I actually know how to do now. Ugh…just let me brush my teeth first? My breath smells remarkably similar to the moldy bread project I did for the 4th grade science fair."

"Babe, that's sick."

"I got an A."

"Still."

"Ranger?"

"Yeah?"

"Please shut up."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Good afternoon, y'all. It's always encouraging to see all of the reviews and alerts. I'm glad you guys like my versions of Ranger and Steph and this chapter, we're at the gun range and it's in Ranger's POV. After all, he's definitely got something to say now about his new lover and Padawan. The smut will return shortly after this and I'll start bringing in Merry Men soon after that. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>I watched as 5 rounds went into the target's chest cavity and nodded approvingly. Stephanie Plum's already exceeding my expectations. She's good at MacGyvering (I plan on asking her how to rig up her Lock Shock ASAP), she's determined, and…and she's beautiful. Inside and out, she's beautiful. Even though craziness tends to follow her, she's a breath of fresh air from my usual interactions with women. Sure, she's attracted to me but it doesn't consume her mind and she's definitely not afraid of me. The woman kisses me bold as brass and tells me to shut up on a regular basis. She took things to the next level yesterday and has made it clear that this is <em><strong>her<strong>_ rodeo, that she's with me simply because she wants to be and she's not gonna be a doormat. Most men would find her off-putting and would be trying to tame her ASAP.

I, however, just want to keep her. Who knew that I would find my equal in Connie's new bounty hunting sucker? Normally, rookies are sent to me in an effort to get them out of skip chasing before they get themselves or someone else killed. This is not like **Dog the Bounty Hunter** or even **COPS**. It's worse. It's dirty work and not every person that says they want to be a bounty hunter can do it. As soon as I saw Steph, I wrote her off as someone in over her head, desperate for cash, and out for revenge against an old sleaze from back in the day.

I was wrong. Very wrong. She learned quickly and had managed to do what every cop in the city couldn't: Catch and exonerate Morelli, find 2 killers and a missing girl, pick up on a crime pattern, earn the trust of Stark Street hookers (a Herculean feat by itself), and bring one of the biggest heroin laundering hustles in the area to its knees. In less than 2 weeks. And all of that was before she had become, in her words, my Bounty Hunting Padawan Learner. When she makes it through the training, she's gonna be at least on my skill level, if not better…

"Can you teach me how to shoot people in the head? I think I'm pretty solid on the whole chest and gut thing now."

I came up behind her and started making minor corrections on her stance. Her back leaned against my chest and I could see straight down her top. Damn, this woman is incredible. Sex…making love with her had been the most intense experience of my personal life. She was tighter than a vice and silky, her warmth burning me in the best way. She hadn't backed down from me, even when things got a little rough and the image of her riding me like 50 miles of bad road will certainly keep me warm at night. If she didn't…I hope she does…oh, Jesus…what has she done to me?

"Um, Ranger? I don't think your gun is supposed to throb against my back." she said with a shit eating grin.

"It's_** not**_ my gun and you know it, woman. Go ahead and shoot. Aim for the center."

_**/**_

"Another thing that's non-negotiable is this stuff. I can do portion control and cut down on coming in here but yeah…forget it. I've been eating Pino's since I cut my first tooth and I'm not giving it up."

"I can work with that. A little bit of junk food is okay but your diet's gonna have to change a lot. Food is fuel, Babe and if you want to get in better shape, you'll have to make some sacrifices."

"I can live with that. I really want to do this bounty hunting kick right. I like the job. I get to help people and it's a real adrenaline rush."

She took another bite of her meatball sub and then took two forkfuls of the salad she had ordered. Her eye twitched every time she swallowed the vegetables but she didn't reach for any dressing or stop eating it, yet another sign that she's serious. Looking away from her, I noticed some people hurriedly glancing away and a couple of people on their cell phones. When Steph had led me in, all conversation stopped for a good 30 seconds before resuming in a faster click. _**Dios**_… I knew that The Burg was insular but this is far more ridiculous than I expected…

Her phone rang and she fished it out of her purse. One glance at the screen and she rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

"Oh, shit. Here we go. Hi, Mary Lou…Lou, I…Lou, it's not like…hey, I'm trying to give you an explanation, here! Breathe and let me talk! All right, here's the deal: Ranger came over yesterday to see if I was okay and we hit off in all the right ways…yeah, you know what I'm talkin' about, be jealous… what _**about**_ him? Look, I told him that it was all about the cash and I meant it… it's not my fault if he was too stupid to believe me…yeah, he did show up at my door yesterday afternoon…Lou, Ranger and I weren't dry humping in front of him…okay, we kinda were but seriously, he… hey, it was _**my**_ idea, not his…yeah, you heard right, it was _**my**_ idea…what do you mean, wow, really? Are you saying that I'm too chickenshit to seduce a guy like Ranger…well, I'm _**not**_…anymore. Yeah…yeah…all right, I'll call you later. Bye. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…"

Her phone rang again and I couldn't help but chuckle at the pained look on her face as she picked it up as well as her mock pleasant smile. Jesus…

"Hi, Ma…Ma…**_Ma_**…Ma, I…jeez, don't put me on speaker…look, I'm not…Ma…Ma, Bernie's nice but there's no connection there…are you serious? No, I am not gonna let Morelli talk to me…what's he even doing there? What are you doing at my mother's, Morelli…talk some sense into me…excuse me? I am not an infant and I'll sew it shut before I let you touch me again and you can put that in your bong and smoke it, buster brown…I don't care…I don't care about that, either…okay. Where's your proof? No, seriously, where's your proof? Tell me about your proof. Everyone knows how he does business? Morelli, everyone _**knew**_ that the World was flat at one time…whatever… even if he does do all that shit, which I doubt, I still like him better than you and he's a helluva lot better at sex than _**you**_ ever were…yeah, I went there…oh, really? Well, maybe next time she won't put me on the goddamned speakerphone… help my dad get her off the floor, you prick…yeah, I just called you a prick, get over it! You know what, put my grandma on the phone…put my grandma on the phone **now**…Gram, take it off speaker…all right, listen to me: **scare him off**… I don't _**care**_ how…do your horny Grandma Mazur voodoo and get him out of the house…uh-huh…yeah, hell no…I am not bringing him over there for dinner tomorrow! No way! Well, _**yeah**_, he's my boyfriend but…Gram, I really like this guy and I want him to get used to dealing _**my**_ madness before I introduce him to the rest of you…all right, I understand…yeah…yeah…call me if she ends up needing an MRI or something…love you, too…bye."

She slammed the phone down and then buried her face in her arms. Reaching forward, I started running my fingers through her hair and she moaned softy in response.

"Your family sounds…interesting."

"Interesting, my ass. More like batshit insane.", she grumbled.

"Well, you had to get it from someplace."

"Bite me."

"Not here, Babe. We'd make front page gossip news."

Her head raised and she gave me a blistering, narrow eyed glare.

"Shut up?" I guessed.

"For the love of Christ, yes." she confirmed before letting her head drop back down with a dull thud.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Now, it's time to start meeting Merry Men and I got this latest MacGyver idea from my half asleep brain. I don't know if it's possible but it sounds sweet so it stays in. We're gonna stay in Ranger's POV for this one and I hope to have another naked part up soon.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>"No way, Stephanie!" Vinnie hollered nasally.<p>

"I'm not asking your permission for anything! I'm telling you what's going on. Not only is Ranger going to be training me to do this job better, I have screwed and will continue to screw him. I don't know if we're dating but there is something good going on with us that's gonna continue if I got something to say about it. Live with it.", she retorted bluntly.

"I'll fire ya!"

"Okey-dokey and then you can waste time and lose money looking for another sucker to chase skips. Look, I actually want to do this job, Vinnie and I'm halfway good at it. Morelli proves that. Training with Ranger will make me all the way good at it and it'll keep this place open…and your father in law happy. It's bad enough that you go around humping ducks and Joyce Barndhart while his little princess sits at home alone. If you let his business venture fall through because you're a stubborn jackass…how do you feel about wearing concrete hooker boots, dear sweet cousin of mine?", she cooed icily.

"All right, all right, Christ! Fine! Train with him if you wanna but you two better not let your screwing or whatever the hell you call yourselves doing interfere my business!"

Steph gave him a sweet smile and then flipped him off, slamming the door behind her with a bang.

"Here's the RangeMan stuff and Connie has files for her outside…and good luck to you. She's a damned crazy pain in the ass!" Vinnie groaned while passing 3 files to me.

I glared at the little weasel and replied flatly, "She's my damned crazy pain in the ass now and you need to treat her with a lot more respect or your father in law will be the _**least**_ of your problems. Understood?"

The pasty man gulped and nodded like a bobblehead. Accepting that, I walked to the door to overhear her conversation with Lula. Well, she was blushing and Lula was talking…

"_**Girl**, there's a lot more to you than I thought! Batman don't usually take on trainees this easy and you've got him fucked up already! I'm impressed!"_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_If that man ain't in love wit you, then LL Cool J ain't got Abs of Steel!"_

"_Aw, come on! He just met me! He can't have fallen for me that fast…could he? Connie, you've known him longest and…_"

"_I don't know him that good but I think Lula's onto something. If he's not in love with you, then he's definitely falling fast. You can see it in his eyes_…"

I opened the door and she looked at me with near unreadable eyes. I could see that their words had gotten to her and I couldn't help but think about them myself. Even though I've never hesitated to be physical with a woman, I can honestly say that I've never been in love with one. I thought I loved Rachel but turned out to be lust and obligation after she got pregnant with Julie. I've always lived a "love with a condom, not a ring" philosophy before and it's worked well before. But, the idea of using that philosophy with Stephanie actually made me feel ill. Not to mention the rage that coiled in me at the thought of her being with another man, especially Morelli…

"Ranger?"

"Yeah?"

"Do I have something on my face? You're looking at me weird."

"No, you're fine. I was just thinking."

"About?" she pushed.

"Babe."

"Let it drop?"

"Yes."

"Fine but if you zone out again, you're gonna tell me what's up. Deal?"

I nodded and went outside, noting the snickering of her friends. I hate being this transparent.

_**/**_

"Put your seat belt on. Someone's following us.", she ordered calmly.

She jerked the wheel in a sharp left and sent us down a side street. I had already noticed the tail. After all, it's one of the company cars. The morons tailing us are my second in command and my cousin. They had given me hell when I said that I was going to go see her and now that I've been away from Haywood with her going on 3 days, I'm sure they were looking to meet her now instead of later. The fact that she spotted them shortly after I did is promising, as is her driving. I'm sure that she didn't have any defensive driving training but driving on the Turnpike is pretty much the equivalent…

She pulled into an abandoned junkyard and stopped the car behind the compacter. Moving quickly, she grabbed a can of epoxy spray and a box of what looked like nails out of the glove compartment. Getting out, she grabbed a piece of metal and slammed it down on the ground, spraying it. My god, she's making a spike strip. Where the hell did she learn how to make a fucking spike strip? I could hear them coming and she pulled out her gun and crouched behind a crushed car cube. Her latest creation proved its worth because Santos ran it over head on, blowing out the two front tires and sending them crashing into a nearby dumpster. Wow. Just…wow.

She ran over and pointed the gun into the driver's seat window, finally sending me into action as she clicked off the safety. As hilarious as this is, I can't have her killing two of my men due to a misunderstanding…

"Who the hell are you and why are you following us?" she demanded as she yanked the door open with her free hand.

Santos just raised his hands and Tank looked past her to me with wide eyes.

"Uh, Rangeman? You think you might wanna calm her down?"

"No.", I replied bluntly.

"You know them, Ranger?"

"Yeah, Babe. I know them. The one you've got in your cross-hairs is Lester Santos and the passenger is Tank Sherman. They're part of the Core Team at RangeMan and no threat to you or me."

"That remains to be seen. What were you tailing us for?"

"Just wanted to meet you, ma'am. Ranger's never taken on a rookie this quickly and never a woman before." Tank admitted.

"Plus, he hasn't been home in almost 3 days. We wanted to make sure he wasn't dead or something. Although, now that I'm looking at you, I can see why he hasn't been home. What man in his right mind would want to come home to a pack of ugly hairy men when he's got a beautiful rose like you by his side?" Santos added on with a broad grin.

Her face went carefully blank at that before she burst into hysterical giggles, holstering her gun.

"Oh man, that's the cheesiest thing I've ever heard! Okay, I believe you both. Don't do it again. And Tank, never call me ma'am. I'm not _**that**_ old. Let's try this again. Hi, I'm Stephanie Plum and you are?"

Santos took her offered hand and kissed it before purring, "Lester Santos at your service and man, would I like to service you…"

"That's your cousin's job, now." she deadpanned, making me look at her with surprise as they howled.

"What? You guys have like the same bone structure but different hair and eye color. It's either cousin or brother and he's too goofy to have shared a house with you."

"Wait til I tell you some stories, Beautiful. Ranger wasn't always the stick in the mud he is now. But, yes we're cousins. I'm older…"

"…and dumber."

"…but much more attractive, wouldn't you say so?"

"Nope.", she replied cheerfully, making Tank grin at me as he took me aside.

"She's got spunk, man. Did you come up with the spike strip?"

"No, she did. She's got a MacGyver kick going. She used a stick and a makeup mirror to check for explosives and she took the innards of a taser and put them in her doorknob to deter lock pickers. If she hadn't shown up with groceries when she did, I would've been knocked the fuck out."

"What about physical stuff?"

"She needs a lot of work but she doesn't give up easily and she didn't spew until the end of the first workout."

She laughed again and I frowned as Santos rested an arm over her shoulder, letting her walk him to her truck. Even though she just shut him down firmly, I don't like his hands on her. I don't like his hands on her at all…

"Shit."

"What?"

"You love that girl, don't you?"

"What? I just met her…"

"That doesn't mean shit and you know it. Face it, Carlos. You're in love. Own up to it. Damn, I never thought I'd see the day that Cupid busted a love cap in your ass..."

"You're gonna get a spike strip jammed in your skull, _**Pierre**_."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Hey, y'all. I've decided that I'm gonna alternate POVs every three chapters so this is the last one in Ranger's head for a bit. I'm glad you guys like the Besotted Batman kick I'm doing and I assure you that he's not the only one feeling it. Steph's just as much of a goner as he is but those pesky little insecurities are still there, making her a little hesitant. Not for long, though…**

**PS: The Sriracha Rooster Sauce thing is directly from my life. I carry a big ass bottle of the stuff in my purse and I put it on nearly everything. I have no shame about the matter. **

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>"Seriously?"<p>

"What? This stuff's spicy awesomeness from the Gods."

"You carry a bottle of Sriracha Rooster Sauce _**in your purse**_?"

"_**Yes, I do.**_ You never know when you might need it."

Shaking my head, I watched as she put three large hits of the stuff into her pho and stirred until the broth was pinkish. I couldn't help but wince as she sprinkled red pepper flakes into the bowl and started eating calmly. I bet the inside of her stomach looks like tye-dye on roids. Deciding not to dwell on that, I used my chopsticks to grab another spring roll and kept my eye on the entrance as people came and went.

The rest of the day had been spent at the humble double wide abode of Walter "Mooner" Dunphy, a perpetual stoner and an old classmate of Steph's. He was nice in a goofy way and had genuinely forgotten about his court date. Gee, I wonder why…

I had nearly sat on his friend Dougie (another skip on her list) but other than that, it had been somewhat nice. I watched as Captain Picard was turned into Locutus of Borg for the first time since I was 12, got a crash course in the latest incarnation of Doctor Who, and learned that Steph had once managed to make THC in chemistry class instead of the assignment. At about 5:30, Steph had taken them in to be rebonded and had been given a standing invite to visit "The Gypsy Caravan" anytime, even with her "scary shadowdude".

Scary Shadowdude…I've certainly been called worse. After getting them home, Steph mentioned that she had the munchies from the smoke so I drove us here. Cho's Noodles was a hole in the wall near the bridge but had the best Thai food around. Plus, it would be a good start on getting more vegetables in Steph's diet without her eye twitching. Surprising me, Cho himself had nearly broken her in two in an embrace and scolded her for not visiting more often. Apparently, she had worked here as a busgirl after her divorce, becoming like a daughter to the man. He had let her stay in the loft above the restaurant and had helped her get at a job at E.E Martin up in Newark…

"So, you got the soundtrack to my family. What's yours like?"

I stiffened a little but fought against my usual instinct to deflect. Stephanie wasn't the enemy or an overly enthusiastic bimbo on a dare. She was just curious and although I'm sure that I'm not in love with her (yet), I want her to know more than just street rumors about me…

"Big, loud, and Cuban. I'm the youngest of 6 kids. I have an older brother and 4 older sisters. With my parents and all the extended family, there are about 40 of us easily."

"Damn, _**4 **_older sisters? And I thought dealing with St. Valerie was tough."

"St. Valerie?"

"My older sister who can do no wrong in my mother and the Burg's eyes. She made it her life's mission to get me in trouble and try to 'feminize' me for the respectable boys around town. I made it my life's mission to make get her as far away from here as possible. She's out in California now with her insurance salesman husband and 2 daughters. Where are you from?"

"I was born in Newark but I graduated in Miami."

"Why?"

"I was the wild child of the family. Always getting in trouble. Eventually, my parents couldn't handle me anymore so they sent me to my Abuelita in Miami when I was 15. She was strict, which was what I needed at the time but I was still determined to get in trouble. On my 17th birthday, I was handed an ultimatum: Spend 10 years in prison for a string of grand theft autos or go to the Army."

"Obviously, you chose the Army."

"Yeah. I ended up in the Rangers, where I ran into Santos and met Tank. I've been working with them for almost 12 years since. They helped me pull myself together after my last tour and get RangeMan off the ground."

"How big is RangeMan, anyway?"

"The main branch is here but there are offices in Miami and Boston. It's a hell of a lot of fun but the paperwork is constantly up to my ass."

"I can help. I have a degree in business."

"You do?"

"Mm-hm. I got it because I was thinking about starting my own hustle out West but then my Grandpa Mazur passed away so I moved back here. Then, after everything with The Dick, I moved to Newark to sell lingerie until the IRS shut the company down for tax fraud. I was at Macy's until…well, you know the rest."

There is a lot more to this woman than meets the eye. She grabbed the bottle of warm sake and poured us both a couple of glasses. Her fingers brushed against mine and I smiled at the sparkly purple polish on her nails. As this morning proved, the sparkly nails could become claws easily and my back still stung pleasantly from where she marked me. Other women had been too timid to do so, afraid that I'd hurt them. Not Stephanie. Not Stephanie at all…

"I'll have to clear it with the guys but since they already like you and despise paperwork as much as I do, you've got the job."

"Kickass!" she cheered while downing another shot and standing up. "Come on. I wanna celebrate."

"And just how do you intend on doing that, Ms. Plum?" I asked in my best teacher's tone, noting the flash of excitement that went through her cerulean orbs.

A smirk belonging to the devil curved her lips and she leaned right in my face, making sure that I got a view down her top again. Her index finger stroked slowly down my throat, following my Adam's apple and I could feel heat sear my groin. _**Madre de Dios**_, she's gonna kill me…

"I'm sure you can help me out with it, Professor Manoso…" she purred in my ear.

Slamming two 50 dollar bills on the table, I stood up and she walked out backwards, keeping her hungry eyes on mine the whole time to her place.

_**/**_

If anyone around is nosy enough to watch this, they're getting a hell of a show.

As soon as we got out of the truck, I started kissing her hungrily, guiding her back towards her building. She matched me and wrapped her leg around my hip, moaning into my mouth. The stairs were creaking underneath us as we clawed at each others clothes, trying to get to skin and her floor at the same time. Dimly, I registered a corridor table being knocked over as well as a couple of appalled gasps as we stumbled past ajar apartments but I just wanted her. I don't give a fuck who or what sees. I need this woman yesterday…

She squeaked as we tripped and went flying over something heavy outside her door and our lips parted with a pop. After a second, she sat up and started laughing manically, pointing behind me. Turning, I choked on a laugh as an unconscious and twitching Joe Morelli came into focus.

"It worked! Sweet Baby Jesus, it worked! My Lock Shock _**worked**_! I can't believe it!" she cheered as she jumped around like a madwoman.

Getting up myself, I took note of the weighed unfolded paperclip stuck in the lock and the slight burn mark on the man's rubber gloved hand. The taser must've been on its highest setting and only the man's CSI training kept him from being fried like an egg. Shaking my head, I turned to a Snoopy dancing Stephanie and sighed fondly as she transitioned to the Dougie…

"Okay, Twinkle Toes. What do you want to do with him?"

"Can you throw him down the stairs for me? I'd do it but he's too heavy."

"Don't you want to know why he's here?"

"Not particularly."

"Babe."

She sighed and pulled her gun and a thawed bottle of water out of her bag of tricks.

"Put your boot on his gut. If the Meat Truck's any indication, he'll be looking to punch my lights out."

"He'd do that to a woman?"

"Hells, yeah. All Morelli men are like that. Everyone says that Joe's different than them but I call shenanigans. You can't beat DNA or the way his dad used to treat his Ma before he bit it from liver failure. Seriously, put your boot on him."

Obeying her, I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing as she dumped ice cold water on him brutally. Morelli barely got a cough out before she shoved her gun straight in his mouth and undid the safety. Damn!

"You and I both know that I could blow your head off right now and get away with it because you were obviously trying to break in my place. I'm supposed to be riding Carlos like Zorro right now and yet I'm dealing with you. Be straight with me or die. Got it? One blink for yes, two for death."

Morelli blinked once and she yanked the gun out of his mouth but kept it trained on his head.

"Well?" she prompted flatly.

"Have you lost your fucking _**mind**_, Stephanie?"

"Not yet but it's gonna happen in the future if my Gram Mazur's any indication. Did you enjoy her inspection of your package?"

"Hell no, I didn't! The woman's a menace! She's belongs in a home! Did…can you take that gun out of my face?"

"Nope!" she replied with the same jauntiness from the junkyard. "Tell me what you want or I'll ask Carlos to stomp your ribcage in."

"He's not gonna…"

"You're keeping her from riding me like Zorro and she just told me that men in your family have a history of roughing up women when they get pissed. If she asks me to, I'll do it and not give a flying fuck." I cut in icily, already applying pressure to his diaphragm.

"_Jesus_… all right, all right…I'll talk to you, Steph. Just tell him to get off of me."

"I can _**ask**_ him to get off of you. I can't guarantee that he will."

"_Fine!_ Ask him, then!"

She looked at me with an impressive set of Bambi eyes and asked sweetly, "Carlos, could you please take your boot off of him?"

"What's in it for me?" I leered, going along with her playfulness.

"Not only will I ride you like Zorro, I'll let you use me as a plate for fruit salad. I have the stuff needed for it…" she wheedled.

"What if I'm in the mood for pie?"

"Pie? What do you mean by…oh! Oh, shit! Carlos, how could you do that to that poor nursery rhyme*****?" she demanded laughingly.

"You make it easy, Babe. You really want me to get off of him?"

"Yes, please."

Looking down at the fuming cop, I simply said, "Touch her and I'll break your fucking face" before letting him stand up. To her credit, she kept the gun on his chest and not his face. She also remained out of disarming range. Definitely proud of my Padawan tonight…

"What are you doin' with this guy, Cupcake? Do you have any idea how dangerous he is?" Morelli almost whined.

"Yeah, I do. But, he's never been dangerous towards me so…"

"_**So**_… he could get you killed!"

"I could die choking on a pen cap but I still chew on them! I could sever an artery while shaving, stab myself in the brain with a mascara wand, or even get ran over trying to go get Tastykakes and tampons! There's a million ways I could get killed, Morelli even without him around! Hell, in the last 3 weeks, I've nearly been killed a bunch of times saving _**your**_ hide from the penitentiary! I'm beginning to regret that decision, you know? I mean, the $47,892.87 in my bank account is nice but sheesh…you're harder to get rid of than roaches…or a UTI!"

I snickered and Morelli groaned at the comparisons and she softened her tone, talking to the cop like he was a 2nd grader as she crossed to my side.

"Look, Ranger and I are together. Okay? I like being with him. He's a good friend, a great boyfriend and a fine Bounty Hunting teacher. Were it not for his guidance, I wouldn't have been able to keep you out of my place just now. He's helping me learn how to protect myself and stand on my own two feet, not only in my new job but in life. Joe, I'm always gonna have a soft spot for you but…it ain't gonna happen. Whatever you lookin' for from me, whether it's a quick screw or an actual relationship, **it is not going to happen** and if you keep pushing this, I'm gonna have to hurt you. Badly."

"You're already hurting me, Cupcake." he simpered, trying to play on her empathy again.

She just rolled her eyes and holstered her gun.

"No, as in _**put you in the hospital**_ hurt you. If you leave now, I won't call the cops and if you call them on me, I'll tell them that you were trying to break in here, which you were, and you'll be right back in the hot seat. I'm willing to try and be friends with you but nothing more."

She turned off her Lock Shock and unlocked the apartment door, nudging me inside first.

"Oh, and please stay away from my family. Not doing so would be hazardous to your Boys." she added with a nod to the cop's groin before gently shutting and locking the door.

We listened as Morelli retreated again and she sighed heavily.

"Hell of a mood killer, ain't he?"

"Not really. Hearing you decimate him was hot…as was hearing you call me your boyfriend."

She startled and I chuckled.

"What? You thought we were just doing a fuck buddy thing? Not on my part, Babe."

"Really?" she asked softly.

I nodded and the smile on her face warmed me from head to toe.

* * *

><p><strong>*The Nursery Rhyme that Ranger cruelly (wonderfully) made perverted is "Little Jack Horner" by Mother Goose:<strong>

**Little Jack Horner **

**Sat in the corner, **

**Eating a Christmas pie; **

**He put in his thumb, **

**And pulled out a plum, **

**And said, "What a good boy am I!"**

…**_Exactly._ Gotta love that dirty Cuban Sex God…**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: And the beat goes on. Calliope and the other ladies are cooperating very nicely today and I'm gonna take advantage while the getting's good. It's time for a little field action with Steph and her first Redecorating job CMW2 style. I've only read of the canon job via various fics on here but I think I can pull it off. Let me know if I'm off base and I'll fix it accordingly later. **

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>I could feel the guys glancing at me as I did my own preparations for the redecorating job. A redecorating job is when unwanted people show up at a RangeMan client's property and will not leave on their own. A team of 6 goes to said property and cleans the place out whilst rearranging the organs of the uncooperative ones, hence the name. Instead of drapes and paint chips, we're going in with stun guns, actual guns, and pepper spray.<p>

After Carlos put my vest on me correctly, I started digging in my Felix the Cat purse. I pulled out a new taser (fully charged) and my old brass knuckles from my days of working grave shifts. I put them on and topped them with my green Invader Zim gloves that I had cut the fingers out of. A straight razor was slipped into my right Doc Marten (they were my standard shoes now) and now I was screwing a silencer onto my spanking new .357 just in case. I saw the silencer as common courtesy to the neighbors. After all, it is after 11:30PM…

"Is killing people during this frowned upon or is this a 'by any means necessary' type of thing?" I asked a nearby Lester.

"It depends on how they act up in there, ma'am." Cal answered before he could, breaking his shy silence around me for the first time. The guy was built like a Swedish linebacker and had a flaming skull tattooed on his head but he was shy around me, a scrawny little Jersey girl half his size. It was adorable yet sad at the same time.

"Don't call me, ma'am. I'm not taking a prune juice drip through an IV yet."

Bobby Brown the medic snickered and I joined Carlos at the front of the truck. He was in full badass Ranger mode and his calm was calming me down. He had finally gone home after breakfast this morning and I had spent the day surfing the web for a quality window installer. I want to get bulletproof glass for my place and new blinds without having to go to **The People's Court**…or having to deal with any businessmen in the Burg. Jimmy Alpha and Sal had shaken my faith in the locals. Sure, they all acted nice but they could easily be crazy drug runners with guns when the sun goes down.

I don't want to get caught in the crossfire…again.

"Are you okay with doing this?"

"Yeah. I need more practical experience."

His face was granite but his eyes blazing as he turned to me fully, silently commanding my attention.

"Stay near me and if I tell you to drop, you do it."

If another guy ordered me around like that, they'd be able to give their balls french kisses but for some odd reason, I have little to no qualms about doing what Carlos tells me to do. He's not doing it in a controlling bastard way and he typically has good advice for me.

Do the words "Lock that shit up?" ring any bells?

"Sir, yes, sir."

His lips quirked at my slightly sassy response but a beep from his watch cut our banter off at the pass. Midnight.

Show time.

_**/**_

My foot slammed into the charging meth head's gut and I lashed out as hard as I could with a punch to the jaw. I heard a satisfying crack as he hit the sticky floor but I followed him down, hooking my headband around his neck in a makeshift garrote as he tried to crawl away. Grabbing the flexible ends in one hand, I yanked his head back and jammed my taser hard into the nape of his neck. He howled but immediately went limp. Standing with a foot on his back, I cuffed his right hand to his right ankle. Then, tased him again for good measure as I bent down to catch my breath. Damn, what a rush…

Meth Head was the last one. The rest of the undesirables had been taken care of by the guys, Tank even throwing one out of a window. Since I didn't hear a kersplat afterwords, I'm pretty sure that the guy landed on the fire escape or in a dumpster. If he's in a dumpster, I'm not getting him out. No siree. It took me a whole bottle of body wash and a bag of lemons to get the stench off of me last time…

"Are you injured, Stephanie?" Bobby asked me after a couple of minutes, tilting my head out of my knees. Even though he shared a name with a very ugly man, he was far from it. He was more like the guy from **CSI: NY**…Hill Harper with big gray eyes.

"No, I'm cool. I'll get Meth Head outta here in a sec…"

"I got him, Beautiful. Nice job by the way. I liked your headband thing."

"I used to do that in gym class a lot. Some guys thought because I was attempting to play basketball instead of doing cheerleading stuff that I was fair game. After I choked Oliver Markovitz out in front of everyone they left me alone…and started calling me a ninja dyke."

Lester snorted and I smiled as he slung the limp ferrety looking guy over his shoulder. I did that. I managed to take on a scared Meth addict and win. I'm a screaming hetero but maybe the ninja label isn't so farfetched anymore. Getting up, I walked downstairs and saw people being loaded into police cars. I squinted past the lights and saw Ranger leaning against a telephone pole across the street. Grabbing a bottle of water from Cal, I joined him, taking in his face. His eyes were loosely shut, reminding me of his sleeping state but I could tell he was awake. More awake than me, anyway. Now that the adrenaline's starting to wear off, I can feel my eyelids getting heavy. It was pushing 2AM now and I'm not used to being out and about this late…

One of his hands went to my shoulder and pulled me against him in a gentle hug. A kiss was pressed to my right temple and I nuzzled my face into vest where his heart was.

"Proud of you, Babe."

"Yeah?"

"Fuck yeah. You came prepared and you kicked ass. Are you hurt?"

"Maybe a couple of skinned knuckles. What about you?"

"I'll have a shiner in the morning. One of them got a lucky shot."

Moving my head, I tilted his face into the street light and sure enough, there was a black eye beginning to form. Getting on my tiptoes, I pressed a kiss to the affected area, chuckling as my pink lip balm showed up on his skin like paint.

"C'mon. You need ice."

I could hear the cops start talking as I led Carlos back into the area like a schoolgirl leading her sweetheart but I didn't pay them any mind. My man needs ice and I'm gonna get him ice, gossipers be damned. Sitting him down on a bench, I grabbed an ice pack from the SUV and applied it as gently as I could. I gave Eddie a finger wave as he joined us and I could feel his eyes looking for injuries on me.

"I'm good, Eddie. Just sweaty and sleepy. I took down the Meth Head that looks like a ferret. Did you see him?"

"Yeah, nice cuff style. It's a little weird but it got the job done."

"Like me!" I quipped cheerfully, making Carlos' lips quirk in his 'I am amused' way.

"Do you need to take her statement?" he asked Eddie kindly. Huh. I guess the only cop he doesn't like is Morelli….

"Nah. I just wanted to make sure she was all right. I hear she's your protege."

"I prefer Bounty Hunting Padawan Learner.", I cut in. "Look, Eddie, I know you're fishing to shut Shirley up so I'll help you out: Ranger here is teaching me to be a better bounty hunter and yes, we are dating exclusively. The only love triangle that's going on is in Morelli and the Burg's heads and _**yes**_, my security system knocked him the fuck out. I'm not gonna tell you exactly how but it did and that's all you're getting right now."

"I can work with that. Go get some sleep. You look like shit!" he called as he headed back to the boys in blue.

I flipped him the bird and blew him a cheeky kiss in response, making Carlos laugh with the gathered RangeMen. Eventually, we were the only ones left on the street and I gave them a questioning pout.

"So…am I in the club, now?"

The grins they gave me made the sun look like a desk lamp.

Hooray for acceptance.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: I'm very glad you all liked my Redecorating job and more action with Ninja MacGyver Steph will be at hand soon. Now, it's time to go to the Plum residence for a little family mayhem time. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>I saw my mother crossing herself in the window as I got out of my dark gray explorer. After securing a job at RangeMan, I decided to come up with a bounty hunting uniform for myself. It would be easier to sink into work mode and make it easier for me to blend in with my future co-workers. After all, none of the guys wear magenta blouses and gray pencil skirts and if they do…well, I don't judge. I played the maid in a LA production of <strong>The Rocky Horror Picture Show <strong>and my married with 6 kids co-star could rock a pair of fishnets with the best of them. Anyway, I had decided that a work wardrobe was needed so I hit Hot Topic, the Army supply store, and the thrift store by the river for supplies.

Right then, I had on a skin tight black t-shirt, black cargo pants with plenty of pockets, and my new knee high lace up Doc Martens, also in black. My hair was down, a black flexiband with silver skulls accents keeping it tamed. My sparkly purple nails had been replaced with sparkly black and once again, I had my knuckles on, black gloves over them. There was a taser in my right pocket, handcuffs in my left, and my .357 (with the silencer still in from earlier) at the small of my back. My Felix the Cat purse had been replaced by a large satchel that I keep on me diagonally. The piece de resistance of my ensemble was a slightly baggy RangeMan windbreaker, swiped from Ranger's truck. With heavy eyeliner and mascara, I no longer looked like someone "monkeying around" on the street.

I am a professional bounty hunter. Fuck with me, if you dare…

"Stephanie Michelle Plum, what on _**Earth **_are you wearing?" my mother hissed sharply as I climbed the front stoop.

"My work gear and my boyfriend's windbreaker." I replied calmly, ducking under her arm to go inside.

"Boyfriend? You don't have a boyfriend!"

"Oh yes she does, Helen! My friend Norma saw her getting hot and heavy outside her place with a spicy Mexican boy a couple of nights ago!" Gram crowed happily as she kissed my cheeks.

"He's Cuban, Gram. What's for dinner tonight? I smell marinara…"

My mother's mouth worked like a busted Singing Bass so I decided to head to the dining room and find out for myself. I was unpleasantly surprised to see a smarmy looking blonde standing near the breakfast bar. He had on a mint green Ralph Lauren polo shirt, beige chinos, and highly polished black loafers. His hair was slicked back with way too much gel and I could smell the overuse of Old Spice from the doorway. Carlos uses a delicious smelling body wash by Bvlgari and like Pavlov's dogs, the mere scent of it can make my mouth (and other areas) water. Blondie's blue eyes widened at my appearance and I was pleased to see fear in them even as he smiled at me.

"Well, hello. I'm Paul Bradshaw. You must be Stephanie."

"Allegedly. So, how did my mother convince you to show up here?"

"She said that you were looking for a guy to start a family with. I'm that guy.", he declared while opening his arms like I was supposed to melt into them.

Yeah, right. Time for some male ego destruction, Ninja Stephanie Plum style.

"She lied. Kids freak me out and I've already been married once. After walking in on him taking the neighborhood slut up the ass on our dining room table, I decided that it just wasn't for me.", I replied in my best "deadpan Ranger" tone.

"Oh. Um, well…"

"Let's eat!" I insisted pleasantly, feeling my mother's eyes plunge daggers in me from her place at the table. Instead of cringing away, I met them head on and gave her a soft, slightly crazed grin. The same scared bunny gleam went through her eyes and she looked towards my father beseechingly. Even though daddy didn't look up from his plate, I could see the tiniest of smiles tugging at his lips so I knew he was on my side. Good old dad…

"Stephanie, Paul here is a real estate agent." my mother offered up after about 15 minutes of silent eating.

"Wow. How does it feel to always be on the edge of unemployment?"

Grandma covered her laugh with a cough and dad's tiny smile started to grow…

"Pardon me?"

"Oh, come on now, Paulie…can I call you Paulie? Good. You've gotta know that the housing market's only a few dryhumps away from utter and complete destruction. It's all they talk about on the news these days. Well, that and the wars going on overseas. Have you ever served in the military?"

"No."

"Shame. I like soldier boys. My _**boyfriend's**_ an Army vet, after all." I cooed as I twirled a strand of my hair.

"Stephanie, may I speak with you in the kitchen?" my mother asked through gritted teeth.

"Why? You invited Paulie to see me, didn't you? I mean, even though there's no chance in heaven or Earth of me dating him, we can still talk. Isn't that right, Paulie?"

"Of course. I always enjoy talking with a beautiful woman. So, what's this Army veteran _**boyfriend**_ of yours like? Does he have a job?" he "joked" with a scathing look in his eyes. If he thinks I'm gonna let him get away with that, he's got another thing coming.

"Oh, yes. He's the CEO of a security company. RangeMan." I replied with a gesture to the logo on my jacket. "He's Cuban-American from Newark and very intense. Being with him's like driving a hotwired luxury car. Have you ever driven a hotwired luxury car?"

"N-no."

"I highly recommend it. That way, when you get caught and miss your court date, I can chase you down. I'm a bounty hunter. Wanna see my new gun? Here, check it out."

My mother went ghostly pale as I pulled out my .357 and chambered a round.

"I've only used it in the range but I'm sure I can get as good with it as I am with my old gun. The cops kinda want it because they're closing up a case I was involved in. Have you ever heard of Jimmy Alpha, Paulie?"

"Isn't he some schoolteacher or something?" Dad asked "innocently", taking on the role as my straight man. Wow!

"No, Daddy. He was the owner of the Stark Street Gym during the day and an honest to God heroin dealer at night."

"Oh, how awful! Where is he, Stepphie? Did you catch him?" Grandma gasped while crossing herself with a quick wink. God, this is so much fun!

"No, Gram. I didn't catch him. I _**killed**_ him with my other gun. 5 shots to the heart less than an inch apart. Oh, yeah. It was brutal and pretty messy. See, even though the bullets I use go in like a BB, they come out with a potato sized hole. Blood and guts _**everywhere**_…it looked like someone had been doing some splatter art blindfolded."

I cut into my lasagna just enough to make the sauce ooze out slowly and dear old Paulie's face was starting to match his prissy little polo. Ooh, I am _**evil**_…

The doorbell rang and I sang, "I'll get it.", before skipping out of the room. I know my mother and I knew that she'd have some guy here. Frankly, I'm surprised she didn't call Morelli over but maybe that whole passing out bit knocked those ideas out of her head. So, when I accepted her dinner invite (demand), I made sure to have a bit of insurance in the form of…

"Hey, Babe."

"Carlos!" I squealed loud enough to carry to the dining room. "I thought you were working!"

"I finished earlier than I thought I would. Am I too late for dinner?"

"Oh, no. My mother will definitely feed you. Come and meet her.", I insisted while letting him inside. As usual, he had on black but no Kevlar. A thermal shirt hugged every delicious inch of his torso and I was pleased to see the same type of cargos I was wearing on him, as well as boots...and weapons.

"Hot damn. We match." he deadpanned, making me giggle. "Is that my windbreaker?"

"Maybe."

"It _**is **_my windbreaker."

"Help me scare this asshole off for good and I'll let you take it off my naked self with your teeth. I've almost got him but I need to put a little more pressure on him."

His face went blank and then a very familiar, slightly crazed grin lit up his face.

"Stephanie, you are looking at a master at applying pressure."

And I think I'm looking at my soulmate, too.

_**/**_

"…and you won't be getting a crumb of pineapple upside down cake from me until you break up with that…that…_**ugh!**_"

The door slammed and I broke into applause as Carlos carefully sidestepped the pool of Paulie vomit at the bottom of the stoop. Who knew that an innocent story of Carlos removing a dead body in the heat of summer would cause so much trouble? Granted, he hadn't made the person get dead. The guy had been in the back of a house being Redecorated and he had lost the rock, paper, and scissors battle to get him out. Nothing sinister at all, there. However, with some creative embellishment and a lovely sadistic laugh at the end, Paulie had tripped all over himself to get out the door, hand over his mouth at the image of "maggots crawling out of the bullet holes"

The coup de grace had been when he lowered me in a tango dip and kissed me so hard that I "accidentally" shot the lasagna and splattered it all over the "Monet" she had picked up at a flea market in Manhattan. Monet…more like Phony-et…

"Pineapple upside down cake?"

"My family isn't exactly the touchy feely sort. We communicate affection through food, guilt trips, and bitter sarcasm. Pineapple upside down cake's my favorite and by cutting me off, my mother's saying that I've sorely disappointed and disgusted her…again. Normally, I'd be falling all over myself to get back in her good graces but no amount of cake is worth her matchmaking skills. She set me up with my ex."

"Point taken. I don't think she likes me."

"She doesn't. My dad and grandma do, though. And I like you best.", I cooed while walking my fingers up his chest.

"I can definitely live with that. Now, about my windbreaker…" he purred while walking me back towards his Porsche…

Holy hot flash!


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Hey, y'all. I had Indian food for the first time today and absolutely loved it. I also got to spend some time with my big sister and talk in between stalls of her crappy Toyota. We were talking about our jobs and college plans and mostly men. I made a comparison to Ranger, which opened the door for fangirling. She may not become a JE addict like me but the seed has definitely been planted.**

**I'm so happy to read your responses to Dinner Time with the Plums and hopefully, I'll be able to inject some more mayhem into the works later. Since we're about to switch back into our man's head and I left the last chapter off at a fun point, I think it's high time for another naked part…on Seven. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>Carlos opened my door for me and I smiled at him. I guess chivalry isn't dead, after all. Helping me out of my truck, he drew me into a soft kiss, my moan echoing in the garage. Unlike other parking garages, it was well lit after dark and I could see small camera domes by each column. I understood. Carlos was an intensely private and dangerous sort of man. He must have plenty of enemies and if they get in here, they need to be taken down hard. The best way to do that would be able to see and hear how many there were…wait, see and hear…<p>

Reading my mind, he took a small remote out of his pocket and pointed to the nearest camera. He held it up for me to see and I cocked my head in a silent question…

"It's a scrambler and a mute button. Whoever's on Monitors can get their porn on the internet like regular people."

"No free show for them!" I declared in my best Soup Nazi imitation.

He laughed and grabbed my hand, this time leading me. We ended up in an industrial like elevator and I looked at the buttons curiously, noting how they had raised roman numerals instead of regular numbers.

"My sister Celia came up with it. She thought it would be cute." he supplied as he pushed the button for 7. "The gym's on 2, the bullpen's on 5, and I live on 7. Here. It's a fob to my place."

"Wow. Uh…thank you?" I asked while staring incredulously at the light gray and black fob in my palm.

The Dick hadn't given me a key to anything until about two weeks before our wedding day and not even one to his car. Carlos and I had met less than a month ago in the diner and he's already keyed…well, fobbed me. I don't mind it a bit but still…warp speed, Mr. Manoso. He closed my hand around the fob and tilted my head up so I could look him in the eye.

"Babe, if you're going to be my Padawan, you need to have access to me in case of an emergency with a skip or a stalker. And since you're going to be my woman, you definitely need to have access to me in a case of an emergency and by emergency, I mean if get the sudden urge to ride me like Zorro at 2 in the morning…or if you need me to go get you tampons or some other obscure woman thing."

The image of Big Bad Ass Ranger getting me my Tampax made me shake with silent laughter and I kissed his cheek in reward.

"I wouldn't make you do that unless I had a busted limb and no driver's license. I can get my own obscure woman things. Well, quid pro quo. You'll have an off switch to my Lock Shock by the weekend. I'd give you a key but I know you'd never use it. You can't resist showing off your mad lock picking skills."

"Damn right." he confirmed unrepentantly as we stopped on 7. With a roll of my eyes, I put the fob in my satchel and he let us into his space. Wow. It was like the pictures of Manhattan lofts I used to drool over in college: spacious but not too spacious. The walls were a shade of slate gray and all the wood in the place looked like oak. He had a lot of books, many of which I recognized from my English classes and a very nice looking entertainment system. I was pleasantly surprised to see a black Wii with four remotes there, as well as a stack of games, including the **Just Dance **series. Huh. Maybe I could play him, later…much later. The furniture was in leather (black, of course) and the black counter tops looked like granite or marble.

An image of him taking me on top of one or all of them made my insides clench harder. Even though we've already made love 3 times before, my Hungarian hormones were nowhere near done with him. He was worlds away from what I used to sexually. The Dick had only been focused on his quick and dirty pleasure and Morelli…it had been decent. I had managed to have a small orgasm but nothing to write home about. In fact, I hadn't even realized I came until I found the evidence on my thighs in the shower. When I'm with Carlos, every centimeter of me knows what's going on, where it's going on, and screams for more. He's damn near obsessed with my satisfaction and will do just about anything to make me come at least twice. I'm also more willing to take what I want and be rough with him. I can pin his wrists down, scratch and bite him, and even tell him exactly how I want it in words that would make Ron Jeremy blush.

His bedroom was large and I could tell that it was where he decompressed. A black iPod rested in an iHome port on his right nightstand, a set of Dre Beats headphones in front of it. On the left nightstand were an alarm clock and a charging Dell lap top, black with silver detail. His bed was at least a Queen size and had black, white, and silver bedding. I'm gonna have to introduce him to the rest of the color wheel. Don't get me wrong. He's found great ways to make grey, white, silver, and especially black look wonderful but…well, when you've got a semi-unfortunate last name like Plum, you learn how to appreciate and embrace color.

Silently, he opened a wall safe and I passed him everything on me but my knuckles. He could take those off of me himself. Our boots were the next to go and soon, we were sitting at the foot of a bed again. His hand slid into mine again and I twined my fingers with his, marveling again at how our skin tones complimented each other…

Carlos turned to say something to me but I kissed him hungrily to silence him, pushing him back towards his pillows. Quicker than lightning, he reversed us and I ended up being the one shoved to the mattress this time. Like I had, he followed after me and started an all out assault on my neck. Knowing hands got me fully disarmed and my satchel hit the floor with a thud. Looking up at him warmly, I parted my legs and remembering my offer, his teeth dragged the zipper of his (mine, now…) windbreaker down. I shifted out of it and slid my hands under his top, tangling my fingers in the dusky hair on his chest as it came off.

He removed my flexiband and finger combed my curls, making me purr as his blunt nails raked my scalp. Slowly but surely, we stripped each other, the silence between us broken by a soft moan or a quiet giggle from me as he found my ticklish places. I didn't try to stop him as he put on a condom and soon, he was back inside me to the hilt. There was a little pain but an enormous amount of bliss. I shuddered hard and pulled him into a lazy kiss, twining my tongue with his playfully. I want him and I'm starting to need him. No other man would do, nor would my showerhead or my hands. What I crave can be only given to me by this man.

_**My**_ man.

"_Harder…faster…please go deeper…want to feel you_ **_everywhere_**…"

"_Tilt your hips_, _**nena**_…"

Obeying him, I felt his hands tenderly cup my ass and grind me against him, sending electricity ricocheting through my nerves. He groaned low in his chest, clutching me to him possessively as he suckled hard at my nipples. Carlos told me that they reminded him of raspberries, his favorite fruit and I arched into his mouth, relishing the attention, his touch, the taste of his skin in my mouth. My vision started to blur and sharpen with the contractions inside my tunnel and I screamed through my teeth, coming hard underneath him. He purred in delight as I tightened around him and rubbed my clit in slow circles, rocketing me into a second climax as the first one receded.

He shuddered and his hips took on a mind of their own, surging hard into me as he groaned his release.

"_**Stephanie**_…"

I've never heard my name said with more tenderness…more affection…more _**love**_.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Hi. I'm going to update _Butterfly_ this weekend, as well as one of my dormant fics. Probably a HOUSE one since the Powers That Be have finally decided to mercifully end the madness. Even though they found way after way to ruin my main ship on the show (House/Cameron), I tried to stick with it anyway and I just couldn't. It went from being a witty dark comedic drama to a primetime soap opera. I hate soap operas. I love to drool over the hot men starring in them but the shows themselves…ew.**

**Anyway, we're back in Ranger's head and it's time for a little more loving and some may be OOC introspection. Walls are tumbling down, folks and soon…neither of them will be able to or want to go back. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>"Morning, Babe."<p>

She yelped and groaned, "Jeez, Carlos put on a bell around your neck! I'm too young to be pissing myself again!"

"Sorry, Stephanie."

"You so aren't. I like your shower."

I like her in my shower. Wrapping my hands around her wet waist, I buried my face in her hair, inhaling deeply. She shook with laughter and started pressing kisses to my shoulder, moving until she was flush against the wall. I hooked one of her legs around my waist and grabbed her body wash, drizzling some on my palms. She hadn't left. I honestly thought she had when I woke up alone in my bed. After all, Stephanie has proved to me that she is the furthest thing away from a morning person.

Thank Christ that she didn't really have a cheese grater in her place or I'm sure she would've made mincemeat out of me.

So, when I reached for her and didn't find her, I immediately assumed the worst, that she had left in the middle of the night. What strikes me was how hurt I was at the idea. I've always been a solitary creature, even in my family. I taught myself to never really depend on anyone and to keep walls up at all times. Doing so would keep me from being hurt and it's been an asset to me from the streets to the desert. Yet, this woman…this crazy white woman from the Burg has gotten to me. She's managed to do in a month what others have been trying to do off and on for 32 years. She's under my skin and I _**like**_ it. I want her and I'm starting to need her…badly…after years of not _**needing**_ anyone…

It's disconcerting to say the least.

She squealed softly as I slid my fingers over her slit, her legs falling open instinctively. What started out as me helping her in the shower has turned into something much less innocent and she definitely wants it, wants me. She's rubbing against me and making that soft purring noise in the back of her throat, the one that both begs and demands me to get inside her…

"We need a condom, don't we?"

I met her cerulean gaze and came to a quick decision. While my family is fertile, she said that she is on the Pill and I've seen her take her pill right on time. And I want to feel her around me. After Rachel, I made a point to never touch a woman bare but…Stephanie is different.

"No.", I replied before sliding back inside her. Her wail of pleasured pain sent shivers down my spine as did the full tightness and damp heat of her. She was boiling inside and it felt like her body was trying to put my whole self into her instead of just my cock. She was practically climbing me now, wrapping her limbs around me and moaning.

"_So good…too soon…how can it…oh, __**Jesus**_…"

She was feeling it too, the deep connection between us. I had felt it as soon as she stepped into the diner and it had exploded as soon as she put her lips on mine for the first time. What started as a surefire way to get Morelli to go fuck himself has become something completely unexpected, something that's out of my range of experience and damn near overwhelming at times. What the hell is it? What the hell has she done to me and why don't I want it undone? Why do I need her this much in such a short period of time, naked or otherwise?

As she shattered against me, the answer slammed into me as hard as a cinderblock to the jaw.

And the image of a fat flying kid in a diaper shooting me with a heart shaped bullet confirmed it.

I'm in love with her. Fucking Christ, I'm in love with her…


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Hey, everyone. I'm so sorry for the delay in posting. I had a nasty migraine yesterday and then my internet decided that today was a good day to die, Klingon Warrior style. It's back among the living for now so...yay! So, Batman's been struck by the Thunderbolt completely. What is he going to do about it? Easy: Keep his woman by any means necessary. This chapter's content came to me while I was at work (of all places) and I hope you enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>I caught the precinct door before it slammed and followed her outside. She was breathing deeply and loudly, as if she were trying to calm herself down. After a minute, she stopped pacing and faced me with her blank face.<p>

"I'm going to hell." she declared matter of factly.

"Babe."

"Don't you 'Babe' me, man! I just pumped an 89 year old man full of electricity for financial gain! Therefore, I am going to hell and that's all there is to it!"

She plopped down on the nearby bench and I joined her immediately. I may still be new at this love thing but I do know when a woman needs comfort. I have a mother, 4 sisters, and a multitude of other female relatives and…oh, shit. She's about to cry…

As soon as the first sniffle escaped her, I folded her into my arms. Stephanie buried her face in my shoulder and I gave a sharp glance to the gawking cops nearby, making them turn away with fear. I know that I have a mainly negative reputation around here. I'm an outsider that doesn't bother to socialize with the citizens. I lived in one of the largest buildings in town and kept access restricted. Other than the gun range and the Bond's Office, I don't frequent local businesses and the most interaction I have personally with Trenton natives is when I'm hauling in their family member (or themselves) for their bond violations. Some individuals (Morelli…) saw my aloofness as irrefutable proof that I'm a man of lawlessness. The rumors go from pimp and drug trafficker to cold blooded murderer.

Point of Clarification: I don't kill unless I'm ordered to or if there is no other alternative. Usually, I'll find an alternative.

Anyway, all of them seeing me with Stephanie, seeing me be human is obviously something noteworthy in their eyes, worthy of gawking. I don't care. My Babe needs me…

"Listen to me, Stephanie. You were defending yourself. He was trying to turn the taser on you so he could run. Yes, he is an 89 year old man but he is also a skip. You are a bounty hunter and you catch skips, no matter how old they are. You were doing your job and he's gonna be fine. You heard what Gazarra said about his pacemaker."

"I know, Carlos but…it still sucks. I don't like hurting people. I'm pretty good at it but I really don't like it."

"That's a good thing because the moment you start to like it, you need to stop."

She nodded and pressed herself closer to me, still a little solemn. Tilting her head up, I wiped away the last of her tears and gave her a chaste kiss on the mouth.

"And if it'll make you feel better, let me remind you that I'm going to hell, too. We can be roommates down there."

"Just as long as we have a good view of all 7 circles of hell, I'm game."

She kissed me again, lingering and I parted my lips to accept her tongue easily. The uniform she came up with yesterday was on again, only this time she had on a black plaid skirt and fishnets. When she had calmly armed herself and spun around for me to take a good look at her, it took every ounce of control not to keep her in bed all day. But, as she reminded me between kisses, she still had three skips to catch before she could start at RangeMan on Monday.

The first had been Gladys Walters, a housewife who had been arrested for DUI on Labor Day. After setting a pie on the windowsill to cool, she had come with us, staring at nothing and everything until we got her back home. She had thanked us for driving her and went in, probably to dive back into the bottle. No wonder Steph's so determined to be different than the rest of the Burg. Conformity obviously means at least three forms of misery…

The second had been Harry Ortega, a punk-ass caught with an eight-ball during a PTA meeting. He had tried to give Steph a hard time but when he spotted me in the truck waiting, he became docile as a lamb. The straight razor she had held steadily to the guy's jugular as I drove probably was a big factor too…

89 year old Leonardo Jones had been busted for shoplifting a bottle of Smirnoff and a tube of Preparation H. It was a pretty straight forward case, a fine and a little bit of probation at best. But, the old man was steadfastly opposed to all parts of the justice system, including bounty hunters. When Stephanie had informed him why she was there, he snapped. He had thrown a large dictionary at her and I had come in just in time to see him go for her taser. She had been faster by milliseconds and instinctively jammed the thing into the man's neck, sending him to the floor like a sack of potatoes. She had backed away from him as if he had burned her and I got him to the truck post haste, trying to get her back home before she snapped.

What made her snap just now was the "teasing" from Morelli.

"_Jesus Christ, Stephanie! You could've killed the man just for a lousy 100 bucks!"_

Fucker. Stupid, arrogant, Stephanie hurting fucker. I thank God that I went to see her that day. God knows what would've happened if she had let him in. Actually, I _**do**_ know. Morelli would've played on her empathy and wormed his way back into her life, eventually breaking her spirit just so he could keep her. He wouldn't be able to deal with her independence when the novelty wore off. He would do anything to change her to suit his needs. He would make her into another Gladys Walters or push her until she fled Trenton for good. It would be a huge loss to everyone if that ever happened…

Judging by the blistering glare Morelli had given me when I chased after her, he was still interested in her. Despite her resounding rejections of him and over 2000 volts of electricity to the brain, he still wants her. I can tell. Whether she's a conquest to him or he's actually interested in a relationship is irrelevant to me.

True Fact 1: Until she decides otherwise, Stephanie Plum is my woman and I don't share.

True Fact 2: Anyone trying to take the woman I love away from me will be in a world of hurt or just dead.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: Hey, everyone. My internet connection's finally stabilized for now so I'm gonna take advantage. I have another day off tomorrow (and Friday) so this story will probably get updated again soon. I still have dormant fics to tackle (not to mention _Butterfly_…glad you guys like what I did with Terri's uncle) and the ever present housework that nobody but me does. This is the last chapter in Ranger's POV for a bit and I hope you guys enjoy what I came up with. Morelli's like the guy from the Friday the 13th franchise: he just won't stay dead…in a figurative way.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>The precinct receiving area's door banged open and I didn't even look up as Morelli made his presence known. I didn't spare him a passing glance, something I knew would annoy the <em><strong>pendejo<strong>_ to no end…

"Manoso, we got to talk now. Alone." he said in a forced calm tone and a pointed look at Tank.

"Is this about Stephanie because if it is, you need to talk to her and not me. It's not my show." I replied frankly, browsing the latest copy of **Guns and Ammo**.

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

"I mean that _**she's**_ the one running things here. She has been from the beginning. She came to me for help in catching you. She came to me for help in her job. She established our friendship and our relationship. She initiated our first kiss and she wouldn't let me out from underneath her until the third time we had sex and not for very long, at that."

"Christ, I didn't need to fucking know that! What exactly are your plans for her? I've heard how you treat women! I don't want you hurting her!"

Okay, that's quite enough from you, Detective. _**Estupido **__**hijo**__** de **__**puta**_…

Setting aside the magazine, I stood up slowly and got right in his face, enjoying the flash of fear that went through the man's eyes. No, I'm not going to kill you, Morelli. You're not worth the effort. However…

"You've got a hell of a nerve insinuating that I'd hurt her. **You**, who fingered her in your father's garage when she was in Pre-K and **you** who stole her virginity like a damned thief in the fucking night on the donut shop floor. You didn't even have the common decency to get her to a bed. You just laid her on a cold hard floor, took what you wanted, and then spray painted the details all over the fucking bathroom walls before taking off for the Navy like a coward. You knew that if you stayed, you'd be charged with statutory rape or worse so you left her with the ruined reputation and to clean up the mess! Don't look at me like I'm fucking speaking Greek! That's what happened! She may have put a more positive slant on things but at the end of the day, that is exactly what happened! **Own it**!"

I cannot stand a man who mistreats a woman. None in my family can and I was taught to destroy anyone who did by any means necessary.

Morelli's face cycled through various shades of red and I shook my head with disgust as the room went silent again. Don't people in this area of Trenton have anything better to do than leech off of gossip? Taking a deep breath to calm my temper, I put about 2 feet and a bench between myself and the bastard. I know that I barely know the man but for all he's done to Stephanie, he's a bastard. He always will be a bastard in my eyes.

"But, in order to shut you and the damned Burg up, I'll be straight with you: I will eat a bullet before I willingly hurt her. Whatever rumors you've heard this week about me are as always, bullshit. Morelli, until she decides otherwise, Stephanie Michelle Plum is my woman and **I do not share**. Whatever twisted past you two have is irrelevant to me. We're in the present, now and **presently**, she is with me and happy. And if you really cared about her even _**half**_ as much as you claim to, you'd want her to be happy, even if it's not with the likes of you. Tank, could you drop me off at Stephanie's on the way back to Haywood?"

"What? Oh. Yeah, sure. Come on."

With a curt nod to a now ghostly pale Morelli, I followed Tank outside and got in the SUV. My second in command and best friend was looking at me like I had just announced that I was going off to join the fucking Cirque de Soleil. I pinched my nose between my fingers with a groan. Who knew that being in love would prompt the need for Excedrin…or a fucking joint?

"You were right. I'm ass over heels in love with her. Drive."

"When'd you figure it out?"

"A couple of days ago. Drive."

"Does she know?"

"No. Drive."

"You're gonna tell her, aren't you?"

"I don't have any choice in the matter. Drive."

"You've always got a choice, man.", he chuckled.

"Not telling her would the absolute wrong one. Now, for the love of Christ, **drive**!"


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: Good afternoon. I'm very pleased to see the responses to the last update. It's especially encouraging to see that my version of Steph and Ranger has been so well received. As you all know, I've only read _Sizzling Sixteen_ and seen the movie. Seeing approval from many of the JE authors I admire on here is very motivating. So, for the love of Christ, I shall be writing more and I hope you enjoy this portion of Steph's POV. She's reached the same conclusion that Ranger has but...well, she's Stephanie Plum. Just read.  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>Bulletproof windows don't look that different from regular windows but they certainly know how to make a girl feel safe. Not to mention that I got a great deal on the pull down teal curtains and white blinds to go with them. My apartment was actually starting to look less like a dorm room and more like a grown woman's place. A s<em><strong>afe <strong>_grown woman's place, that is.

I had even gotten bulletproof frosted glass for my sliding doors and the bathroom window. My pursuit of Morelli taught me that a crazy will do any and everything to stay free. I know that if someone gets absolutely determined to do me in, nothing short of death will stop them but at least I'm being proactive in my own protection.

Carefully, I pulled the trip wire taut and secured it to the bottom of my bedroom window sill. Reaching, I clicked on the tiny white switch at the left end and stepped back. If this latest MacGyver works, this will serve as an alarm for window intruders. The line would move and it would set off the shrill buzzer I had picked up from the hobby shop. From there, I can get to a weapon or the panic button Carlos has given me and hopefully live to ride him like Zorro another day…

My cell phone started playing the** COPS** theme and I used my new Bluetooth earpiece to answer. I saw Ranger with it and since I was going to be a bounty hunter in motion, I figured it would be a good investment. Plus, I like the way that it gives me a 007 feeling…

"What's up, Eddie?"

"_You need to marry him!", _he hollered._  
><em>

My eyes went comically wide (my natural reaction to the M word) and I asked, "Excuse me? Is this about Morelli?"

"_**No**, you lunatic! I know better than that! It's about **Ranger**! You need to marry him! Seriously…like **today**!" _

"Eddie… the beginning… please start at it and calm your man tits! You're starting to sound like my girlfriends!"

"_Bite your tongue! All right, so Morelli came up to Ranger at receiving earlier with a whole He-Man, you shall not hurt my woman kick and…"_

"…I'm gonna shoot his motherfucking nuts off! I _**told**_ him that I wasn't interested and he's still messing with Ranger? Stupid son of a-"

"_Can I finish?"_

"Sure, but Morelli's definitely gonna be nutless soon." I snarled while getting my recently returned gun out of my nightstand.

"_Better him than me. Anyway, Ranger got right back in his face and said that you were the one calling the shots between you two and until you decide otherwise, you're his woman and he doesn't share. Then, he flayed Morelli with all the shit he pulled on you and told him that he had a helluva nerve to say that he'd hurt you worse than he did."_

"He really said that?"

"_Fuck yeah and there's more.", _Eddie confirmed._  
><em>

"More?" I asked weakly, sitting down on my bed. Wow...

"_Yeah. He said that he'd eat a bullet before he hurt you willingly and that if Morelli cared about you even half as much as he's acting, he'd want you to be happy, even if it's not with him. Well, he said the likes of him but you get what I mean. Steph, he stuck up for you in front of everybody and meant it. He knows about your crazy and he still wants you and that means you gotta marry him. Case closed. Look, he isn't like that Dick asshole you let your Ma railroad you into marrying. He's different. He's a good man. Good for you, anyway…"_

Slowly, I laid back into my spread eagle thinking position and tried to sort through my racing thoughts. Other than my dad and Eddie at times, no man has ever stuck up for me and especially not like this. Carlos had done it in the precinct, one of the Burg's epicenters, so it was spreading faster than crabs from Joyce Barndhart. I'm not sure if he yelled. He probably did. He certainly did when I went into detail about my past Morelli fixation. He called him a molester, a rapist, a prick and something called a _**pendejo**_. I don't know exactly what it means but it's probably something really bad. I really should relearn Spanish. I used to be decent at it when I was out West but most of it's been forgotten. Maybe Carlos could teach me…

"_Hey, are you still there?"_

"Yeah, Eddie. I'm here. But I don't wanna get married again…I think."

"_You **think** or you **know**?"_

"I'm not sure anymore. Ever since I met Carlos, everything in my brain's been all fucked up. He's got me thinking about getting married without hyperventilating, he's got me shooting guns and tasing Meth Heads and I stood up to my Ma and I'm a regular MacGyver now. Hell, I even sat through a marathon of **A Baby Story** on TLC without barfing because I was thinking about having _**his**_ babies. We'd make some damned pretty babies…"

"_Hopefully, they wouldn't get your hair…or your mental problems."_

"Up yours, Gazarra."

"_Not today, Plum. Wow…this is some heavy shit…"_

"No, this is just nuts, even for me! I haven't even known the man 6 months and I already get the shakes just thinking about being without him! Nobody's made me feel this way before and I'm scared! I don't know how to be in love with someone!"

"_Holy shit, you're in love with him?"_

"I didn't say that!"

"_You did!"_

"I did? Oh…oh, shit! I did! Oh, my God! What am I gonna do?" I squeaked while burying my face in my hands.

"_Steph, you gotta tell him."_

"I can't! He'll think I'm psycho!"

"_Well…"_

"Shut _**up!**_ Christ, I can't believe this! I've fallen in love with a guy completely out of my fucking league like a dumbass and now, he's gonna turn me down!"

"Who says that I'd turn you down?"

I sat bolt upright and met Carlos' gaze. Even though his face was completely impassive, his eyes were blazing and I could feel my heart racing faster and faster…

"Eddie, I gotta go." I said shakily as I stood up.

"_Is he there?"_

"Uh-huh."

"_Talk to him. Tell him. Let me know what happens later."_

The dial tone sounded and I bolted into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door.

God, what am I gonna do? What is he gonna say?

And why am I hiding in the bathroom when I know he's just gonna follow me?

Is he gonna follow me?

I _**hope**_ he does…


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: Now I understand why I despise cliffhangers so thoroughly. All right, all right, I get it! No more drawing it out, I promise. Here are the droids you're looking for and I hope you guys enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>I know exactly what you're thinking.<p>

And don't worry, I'm not mad about it at all. You're sitting there calling me the biggest, dumbest, chickeniest chicken to walk the Earth. I achieved my goal of getting to the real with Ranger, found out that I'm not nearly as pathetically one-sided in love with him as I thought, and what do I do? Do I launch myself into his arms and kiss him mute like any sane woman would? No. No, not me. What do _**I **_do? I run into my bathroom and hide in my bathtub in the fetal position like a baby. Unbelievable. Somehow, I've managed to get and keep Ricardo Carlos Manoso's attention just like I wanted _**from the start**_ and now, I'm having a little freak out. Okay, I'm having a big freak out. Like a Costco, Sam's Club buy-in-bulk-to-save-more-freak out…while he's still on the wrong side of the damned door.

I'm an idiot and I bring shame to the whole gender of femalehood…true facts. God, I need a drink. No, I need him. Shit, did he leave? It would serve me right if he did…

"Are…are you still out there?" I called after a couple of more minutes.

"_Yeah, Babe."_

"Aren't you gonna come in? I know you can get past the lock…"

"_Do you **want** me to come in?"_

Yes. No. Yes and no. I don't know. I'm confused…

The lock was jimmied open easily and I squeezed my eyes shut as he pulled the shower curtain back. I am truly pitiful. Not only am I lying shivering in a fetal position in my bathtub, I'm lying shivering in a fetal position in my blue flannel pajamas with can-canning cows all over them. And the cow slippers that squeak when I walk…or run away from the man I love like a scared little bunny rabbit. Wow. Just…wow. Wonder Woman, my ass! More like Scaredey Cat Spaz Girl! Cracking an eye open, I squeaked as he disarmed himself and climbed in barefoot, spooning up behind me. His arms wrapped around me tightly and I knew that unless I kneed him in the Boys (something I'd never, _**ever**_ do on purpose), I wasn't going anywhere. Not until we hashed this out…

"Uhh…hi, Carlos?" I offered sheepishly.

"Hello, Stephanie." he replied warmly.

"When'd you get here?"

"**A Baby Story**. And I agree with you. We'd make some damned pretty babies."

"But, you were really quiet!" I protested while twisting to hide my face in his chest.

"I was in the Rangers, Babe. Being quiet often meant the difference between life and death. Besides, you weren't…"

"…being aware of my surroundings. I know. I'm working on it. So… I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that you're feeling a lot more than friendship for me."

"Definitely."

"And…well, I want to thank you. Morelli needed to hear what you said to him and I appreciate you standing up for me and meaning it. I can count the people who have before on less than one hand."

"I'd do it again, Stephanie. No one deserves to be wrung out to dry, especially when they can't even defend themselves."

"I'm glad you think that. Um…well, as you heard, I was just talking to Eddie and he helped me reach a rather startling conclusion and…quit laughing, this isn't exactly a cake walk for me!"

I can't believe him. I'm trying to put my fragile little heart on the line here and he's laughing his ass off at me. Jerk. Okay, no he's not…

"Babe, just say it. Yank the bullet out."

"Don't you mean rip the band-aid off?"

"Same meaning. Stephanie, tell me."

"Promise you won't freak out?" I stalled.

"I think you've freaked out enough for the both of us today, Babe."

"Bite me."

"Not until you tell me."

"You already know what it is!"

"I want to hear you say it."

And I really want to say it. Desperately but…well, after everything with The Dick and Morelli, to an extent, my brain put those three little words in a category that meant pain. Men who say they love me (that aren't related to me) inevitably hurt me or turn out to be jerks. Or rather, they feel as if they don't have to hide their jerkish ways from me now that they've got what they wanted, whether it's my cherry or a trophy wife. And logically, I know that Carlos is a completely different animal from them. He's noble and strong and kind and all the things that I thought I had found with the other two losers.

Carlos is the real deal, not crab with a K and _**that's**_ what's scaring the hell out of me. A guy like him…he could have any woman he wants. Married, unmarried, even a nun…I know that if he set his mind to it, it would be a wrap. That being said, why would he pick me? I mean, I'm not Quasimodo in the bell tower but I'm certainly not the kind of woman that you'd expect to see with him with on the street…

"You're perfect for me, Steph. I wouldn't have fallen for you if you weren't.", he murmured into my hair.

That made me look him on the eyes again. Did he have ESP or something? Hold on…fallen for me?

"Wait…you're in love with me, too?"

"Yes."

"Seriously?"

"_**Yes**_, woman! That's what I came here to tell you before you spazzed out on me!" he confirmed in a fondly exasperated tone and with a light swat to my ass. Ow! Well, not really but...still, it's kind of the principle of the matter...

"So, I'm _**not**_ pathetic?"

"Discounting the fact that you were hiding in a fetal position in ninja cow pajamas earlier, you are not pathetic."

"They're not ninjas, they're showgirls…show_**cows**_. Don't look at me like that. They were a gag birthday gift from Mary Lou and ah…jeez! Never mind that! The important thing is that I'm in love with you. It's really soon and possibly a disaster in the making but I am ass over heels in love with you, Ricardo Carlos Manoso. I love you. I'm scared shitless but I still love you. A lot. A really whole lot. So, there. I said it. It's out there. You happy, now?"

"Blissful. Can we get out of the tub, now? My ass is asleep."


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: Isn't love grand? Now that our heroes are on the same page, their energies can be focused on more important matters. Ranger will definitely have full function to his ass and it will be used in wonderful, Stephanie screaming ways later. First, however, the promise from Chapter 6 must reappear. It's time for this ditty's Jason Voorhees to bite it…for now.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>His home office (spare bedroom) door opened and as soon as he clicked the light on, I spun around slowly to face him just like in the old mob movies.<p>

"Jesus! How the hell did you get in here?" Morelli yelped, causing a cool smile to curve my blood red lips.

"That's not important. Sit. **Now.**"

The sound of me clicking the safety of my .357 made him comply instantly and my smile grew at the wariness in his gaze. Morelli was afraid of me. Little old me. Of course, I was dressed to intimidate. I had on the cap sleeved black dress that I saved for funerals, my fishnets, spiky black heels and my hair was back in a tight, severe braided twist, two daggers (newly acquired for my Satchel) clearly visible within. My skulls flexiband served as a form of a crown and my nails were painted the same blood red as my lips. I looked like a Gothic Queen or a Vampire Defense Attorney. What was probably fucking with his head the most (other than my awesome reveal) was the flat frost in my normally warm gaze. Silence stretched between us and I waited until his eyes locked on mine fully to begin.

"Detective Morelli, do you remember our last conversation?"

"Look, Cupcake…"

"My name is Stephanie, Detective. Answer the question. Do you remember?"

"Fine. Yeah, I remember."

"Good. Do you remember the last parts of the conversation?"

"Is there a point to this? I have work to do…" he blustered, making me roll my eyes.

"You haven't been cleared for anything important yet. You're still a desk bitch. Paperwork's not going anymore. Do you remember the last parts of the conversation or not?"

"Yeah. What's your point, _**Stephanie**_?"

I pulled my gun into view and started tracing the grooves with a slow nail, knowing that his eyes were watching me tease the trigger. I saw his Adam's apple bob as I let the barrel point directly between his legs. Of course he'd be worried about his precious Boys. All Morelli men really have going for them are their good looks (excluding Mooch) and their twig and berries. If I pulled the trigger, he'd have nothing to prove his "manhood" anymore…

"Joe, I am a woman of my word. When I give a promise, I do my utmost to uphold it. Now, the last time we spoke, I promised that if you kept dicking around, trying to get back in my life when I so obviously don't want you around, I'd hurt you. I believe that your little show with Carlos counts as dicking around."

I stood up and when he did the same, I pressed the barrel of my gun right against his fly.

"You have no idea just how much I'm aching to pull the trigger right now. I'm pretty sure I'd be installed as a Saint for saving the gene pool from another generation of Morelli jerk offs. Not to mention it would finally make us even steven. You busted me so I should do the same to you. I'm pretty sure that you'd get the same amount of pleasure that I did on that fucking floor. What do you think?"

"Stephanie, put the gun away."

"Why should I?"

"You'll go to prison!"

"That Bobbitt woman didn't and she chopped the whole damned thing off!", I pointed out with a light giggle, pressing even harder into the denim.

"What the fuck do you want from me?"

"To be left in peace! I want you to leave me and mine alone! And this is gonna serve as a warning for next time!"

**_"No!"_**

I finally pulled the trigger and a loud click sounded, indicating that there wasn't a round inside the barrel. To his credit, he didn't piss himself but his eyes were comically wide with terrified relief as I moved away from him. His knees were wobbling like Jell-O and he was wheezing hard. Oh, yeah. Not only does alcoholism run in his family, so does asthma. I hope he's got an inhaler handy someplace. Slowly returning my gun to my thigh holster, I demurely pulled on my black cardigan, buttoning the top pearl button so that it looked like a cape.

"All I want is for you to leave me and Carlos alone. That's all. It's really not too much to ask and I know full well that you could get in the pussy of just about every other woman in Trenton if you set your mind to it. I am certainly far from the only fish in the Delaware."

Picking up my clutch, I walked past his gaping self, heading for his apartment door calmly.

"You're fucking crazy, Plum! You've _**always**_ been fucking crazy and now Ranger's made it worse! Do you really think he's interested in you for more than what's between your fucking legs? Do you really think he loves you?"

"I know he does. He told me yesterday and I love him just as much, if not more."

"You _**what?**_!"

"I didn't stutter! I love him. I want him, I need him, and I love him. It's as simple as that and for the record, he doesn't know that I'm here. He's still sleeping peacefully in my bed where he belongs…and where you'll never be welcome."

I opened the door and turned my head back to look at him. His face was fire truck red and I knew that he was aching to grab me and choke me out. He wouldn't, though. We both knew that he wouldn't.

"Next time, I won't bother with any Russian Roulette bullshit. Be sure to lock up behind me, okay? You never know who might be showing up next."

With that coup de grace ringing in the early morning air, I made my way outside. After I was sure that he wasn't watching, I pressed gently on the inside of my right ear…and the two way mic.

"How'd I do?"

"_Perfect, Babe. For a few minutes there, I really thought you were gonna do it. I'm around the corner."_

"Cool beans. Can we get breakfast? Mind fucking makes me ravenous."

"_Babe."_, he chuckled.

The lovers that play together, stay together.


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: Hello and good evening. I'm so glad that the Russian Roulette thing fit. I'm trying to put a little more darkness into my stories while sticking to my humorous, romantic (read: smutty) roots so reading the positive responses really helped. Thanks. All right, we're back in the Man of Mystery's head and I hope you all enjoy the chapter.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>"Rangeman, if you two don't work out, we're getting rid of you and keeping her.", Tank declared, all men within earshot nodding in agreement.<p>

I nodded in acknowledgment and continued watching her plow through stack after stack of paperwork like a machine. She also had a stack of 8 completed searches on the edge of the desk, waiting for someone to grab them. 8 searches from birth to present, all before noon. She had come up here at 7:30 after her work out and it was just now 10AM. The only other person who worked with that sort of speed and detail was Silvio in Miami. Also, the men had taken to her like ducks to water (or Vinnie). She showed them all the same acceptance and lack of fear that she showed me, not to mention the rapport she's got with the Core Team. Once they vouched for her, it was pretty much a done deal.

Stephanie has been accepted, not just as my woman but as a co-worker and a friend.

Stepping away from Tank, I entered my office and she blew me a small kiss of greeting, not missing a beat. The top button of her black blouse was open, showing one of the marks from my mouth and she had a red and black plaid skirt, showing her usual fishnets. The hilt of a Bowie knife was visible inside her right boot and I spotted a small knife among the unsharpened pencils in her hair.

"Report."

Her cerulean eyes flicked up over her readers and she pursed her lips.

"Ranger, if you let it get this bad again, I swear to God that I'm gonna shoot you. Not to kill but…yeah. Jeez. Okay, here are some searches. 6 out of the 8 live in the Burg so if you or one the Dudes need some help hauling them in, I can help. Another one lives in Newark and I used to work with the bitch at E.E. Martin so I might be able to help there, too. I'm not sure. The last one's in the Wind, someplace but he's got a sister in NYC. I left a message with her and I hope to hear back from her soon. I've got about a day and a half of paperwork left and some ideas as to how it won't get this bad again because I totally mean it. I will shoot you. I don't _**want **_to bust a cap in your ass but I will. Clear?"

"Crystal. Thanks, Babe."

"No price, Carlos. Now, make tracks. Bring some food when you come back, especially if it's from Ella!", she hollered after me.

Ella is the housekeeper to the building and my mother's youngest sister. She and Stephanie had met Sunday evening and they had immediately clicked. Ella was delighted to have another woman to talk to (Jeanne Ellen Burrows doesn't really count…) and that I had actually let her into my home. The clincher was her obvious love of her cooking, healthy or otherwise. The noises she made between bites reminded me of the noises she made underneath me. Once Steph had left for the shower, Ella looked at me with uncharacteristic seriousness and said that if I ever let Stephanie out of my life without a fight, she'd shoot me with all of my guns. Or just give me food poisoning before calling my mother. Either way…I got her point.

And I get Tank's point, too. I'm a lot of things but I am far from a stupid man.

"…_I love him. I want him, I need him, and I love him…"_

And unlike Richard Orr (I refuse to call a grown man Dickie) or Morelli, I'm not going to take her affections for granted.


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note:Good evening, all. Just another day at the office. Stephanie's made herself comfortable in the RangeMan family and Ranger has no intentions of letting her get away. After all, food poisoning is one thing. Calling his mom? That's some serious Gitmo action, right there. It's time for some more Padawan Plum time as well as some fluff and I hope you guys enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>When I came back to take her to lunch, I opened the door to see Stephanie struggling like a hellcat in a chair, her arms behind her back. Santos was sitting on the desk, wincing at every feral snarl that escaped her. What in the living fuck…?<p>

"Babe, what the hell is going on?"

"I'm…trying to…get out…of these…goddamned…fucking hand- _**yes!**_"

She held up a pair of handcuffs and a pick triumphantly before throwing them both across the room.

"Time?" she prompted Santos.

"15 minutes, 42 seconds."

"Damn it!"

"Beautiful, you don't have to learn how to Houdini in one day…"

She put her hands on her hips and gave us both a steely glare that was eerily to similar to my own, keeping both of us quiet.

"Look here, Lester: Morelli got the drop on me and cuffed me _**naked**_ to my shower. And _**then **_he took my towel and left me looking like an idiot and a drowned rat. The only reason that I didn't hang there until I died or called my dad to scar him for life is because of Ranger. And while it's always nice to have him and the rest of you guys in my corner, I wanna be able to rescue myself, too. Part of being able to rescue myself is knowing how to get out of some goddamned fucking handcuffs in less than fucking 15 minutes and 42 seconds. Now, what's the fastest you can do it?"

"About a minute and a half. 3 if I gotta be subtle." Santos replied with his hands raised slightly. I don't really blame him. Steph's got a very nasty temper when provoked or frustrated and a sadistic side. I wasn't kidding outside of Morelli's the other day. I really thought she was going to do it and it honestly frightened me. Not nearly as much as it turned me on but still…shit.

"Well, my goal right now is about 8 minutes. That's realistic, right?"

"Very. Stephanie, I think most of your trouble comes from your anger. Once you rein that in and focus, you'll be able to get loose much faster."

"Okay. It's just…I don't like being restrained, Carlos. I never have and while getting cuffed to my shower turned out to be a good thing at the end of the day, it was still damned embarrassing…and cold."

"I'd happy to warm you up anytime, Beautiful." Santos leered.

"And as I've told you before, it's your cousin's job." she replied with an impish smile. "Thanks for the help, Lester and sorry for going more than a little nutso on you."

"Don't apologize, it's cool. Everyone around here always bottles their shit up or lets it out during sparring matches. The fact that you can go from zero to apeshit in a few seconds is okay, healthy even. Just…keep it down to a dull roar in the field. Getting too pissed off's a surefire way to get you sloppy and dead. Or just maimed. And then Ranger would go on a heartbroken rampage and get himself dead or maimed because some asshole made you get dead or maimed. It's a whole negative Circle of Life thing. You get me, Nala?"

"Sure thing, Mufasa."

"Guess that makes you Simba, cuz. I'll leave you two to your mating…" he quipped before running out the door. She followed after him and seconds later, there was a yelp of pain and a burst of laughter from the men, as well as scattered applause. Stephanie literally skipped back in and planted a smacking kiss on my cheek.

"Hi. Lunch?"

"Ella's already making it on 7."

I couldn't help but laugh at the responding dragon roar from her stomach.

_**/**_

"…it's going great, Lou. I'm good with the work and the guys are really nice. Some of them are kinda shy but I think it's a whole novelty thing…you know: me ovaries, them gonads…no, no one's tried to make a move…why would they? They know that I'm with Carlos…ah, the whole novelty thing…well, if any of them get too fresh, I'll give 'em a swift knee to their gonads…remember that the boys also used to call me the Nutcracker back in the day…damn skippy. Mm-hm…yeah, I'll tell him. See you later. Mary Lou says hi."

I nodded in acknowledgment and continued watching her brush her hair. I had helped her out for the rest of the day with the paperwork and listened to her ideas. Day to day paperwork was now to be split evenly through the men with her directing the flow. Anybody not picking up their slack would be brought down to the Mats for 2 weeks. All the major work, such as the taxes, would be split evenly between me, Tank, and Santos. Rodriguez had respectfully demanded her to be added the Research department so after getting through the backlog, she'd relocate to a cubicle to run searches. She'd work at the Bond's Office on Monday, Thursday, and Friday (best days to catch skips around here) and spend the rest of the week at RangeMan from 7:00 to 5.

She kept an overnight bag here now and I already memorized her various soaps and woman products for Ella. I also got her sizes. One of Ella's jobs is to provide uniforms and other sorts of clothing for all the employees here. She was practically vibrating with excitement at the idea of shopping for Steph, so much that Luis had to get her a cup of tea to calm her. Word of our relationship was already spreading through the _**familia **_and I knew that I'd be fielding calls demanding to meet her soon. They wouldn't be harsh demands, just a lot of them, and I don't want to spook her. From what I can see, her family is small and standoffish, the complete opposite of the Manoso/Santos/Guzman clan…

"Hey. You're looking at me weird again. What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing important."

"Ranger."

"Babe."

She sighed and conceded, "You'll have to tell me eventually, Soldier Boy."

"I will, Babe. I promise. Just not now."

"I can live with that."

She crawled into bed and neatly straddled me, practically drowning in one of my old Army undershirts. I shifted backward until my back was against the headboard and wrapped my arms around her waist. She shifted closer and buried her face in my neck, inhaling deeply. In one of her thinking out loud moments, she had informed me that the scent of Bvlgari immediately made her think of me and made her feel safe…and horny. Well, at the time she said it made her want to climb me like Everest but I got her point just fine. Moving aside the fabric, I pressed a tender kiss to her shoulder and held her tighter. In response, she sighed contently and melted against me, neither of us making any moves to take things in a more carnal direction. I didn't mind it.

Just holding her can be more than enough to satisfy me.


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note: Good morning, everyone. One good thing about being in a massive family is that writer's block can and will be annihilated just by spending a bit of time with one of them. My big sister turned her room into a makeshift dance club and while I danced with her for a bit (I sat out due to rain/ pre Monthly Curse induced pain in my back and ankles), her impromptu routine to LMFAO's _I'm Sexy and I Know It_ gave me the perfect way to cap off Ranger's section with some more Babe fluff with a side of anti-Morelli. I hope you guys enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p><strong>45 minutes ago…<strong>

"_Come on. I wanna do some cardio before dinner."_

"_Is that a proposition, Babe?"_

"_Not of that kind. Seriously, come on. No, you don't need your Kevlar. Just come on."_

"_Babe…"_

"_Please?"_

_I sighed and stood up from the couch, letting her lead me out the door…_

My men are probably looking around for the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

Right now, I'm dancing to club jams with her in the back high school parking lot. Smack dab in the middle of the lot and we're attracting a growing crowd. Some of the braver watchers were dancing too, Stephanie's iPod becoming its own DJ booth. Some people (a couple I recognized from that day at Pino's) were on their cell phones and I knew that the gossip mill was still running strong. The broad grin on Stephanie's face as she moved showed that she didn't care and frankly, I didn't either. We're not doing anything scandalous (today). We're dating exclusively and therefore, we can go out in the community together and do couple stuff like this. Also, dancing is excellent Cardio and it was _**her**_ idea. That means she's showing initiative in her training (once again) and it's another sign that she is serious about being a bounty hunter.

And…well, it's damned funny to watch her. She was on the beat but she was showing off some moves that I hadn't seen since my teen years. The running man, Babe? Really? Not to mention the robot routine she had come up with for_** Intergalactic**_…

A squeaky laugh escaped her as I caught her mid jumping fist pump and we danced to the throbbing bass of Rick James, her back to my chest. I spat out a mouthful of crazy curls and she gave me an apologetic look as she turned around. Without a bit of hesitation, she took the leather tie out of my hair and wrapped it around her left wrist in a festive bow. She hasn't ever shown fear towards me, even before our relationship evolved. Awe, affection, trust, annoyance…everything but fear. She trusts me not to hurt her…

A TPD car pulled slowly into the lot and I saw Gazarra get out with Morelli next to him. I guess he was back on active duty and the Burg Grapevine must have informed him of our presence. Or rather, Stephanie's presence. Even though there was now a look of wariness in his gaze from her little Russian Roulette routine, I know it's temporary. He still wants her and once he thinks that he's got an opening, he'll go for it. I'm not worried at all.

See, not only does she trust me not to hurt her, I trust her not to hurt me.

"Detectives.", I greeted calmly.

"Aw, crap. Was there a noise complaint?" Steph fretted as she resumed leaning against me.

"Nah, we just wanted to see what was going on. Plus, I heard that you got Ranger to dance with you. What voodoo did you use on him?" Gazarra teased her.

"No voodoo. I just said that it was cardio, which it is, and as my Teacher, he must work out with me so I don't under or overdo things. So, you've been cleared for the field again, Morelli?"

"Yeah, _**Stephanie**_." he replied, his narrowed eyes shifting between hers and on my arms around her waist. I noticed that he had dropped that asinine Cupcake nickname from his vocabulary. Good. He's got no right to call her out of her name in any form…

"Good. We need more good cops around here. Not too many, though because then I'd be out of a job." she replied with calm cheerfulness.

"Huh. Yeah. So, I heard you're working at RangeMan, too. How's _**that**_ working out for you?"

"It's awesome. The guys are nice, the benefits are good, I'm good at the work, and I get to spend more time with Carlos. It's a multi-win situation."

Morelli's eye twitched at her use of my given name and I know she did it on purpose. She's setting boundaries. Surname to given name, acquaintance to lover. She's saying that she's closer to me now than she'd ever been with him. And that she likes it that way. Proud of you, Babe...

"Sounds like things are getting real serious. You move in yet?" Morelli asked with the same "teasing" tone from the Precinct. She bristled a little but then the same sweet smile from her "Boys" threat returned.

"No, but I do have some stuff in his place and a key. Listen, my iPod's about to die again so I think we're done for the day here. It's always good to see you, Eddie."

The slight emphasis on the word you hadn't gone unnoticed by any of us and Morelli stalked back to the cop car, looking like he was at the point of exploding. I hid my smirk in her hair. Nothing like fear and a volatile temper at war for good entertainment…

"Damn, Steph. Maybe you should ease up a little on the ice."

"No way, Eddie. I know Morelli. If he thinks he's got an opening, he'll try for more from me than I'm willing to give. I don't want him in my life fully. Hell, I don't want him in my life at all but I know that's not going to be possible without moving and I'm not willing to do that. I also don't want him to have any evidence to say that I'm toying with him or giving him false hope. So, if I gotta verbally or literally kick him in the stones to keep him in his place, I will."

"Then I better tell him to start wearing a cup.", Gazarra remarked solemnly, heading back with him.

And judging by the way, he's glaring at Steph now, I'd suggest a gag, too. I'm not going to tolerate anyone putting her down, whether it's her mother or some random Tom, Dick, and Harry on the street. If the _**pendejo**_ keeps sniffing around and taking potshots at her, I'll be taking action.

Permanent action.


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note: I don't know why but I'm pretty sure I'll be writing a "fight to the death" between Ranger and Morelli by the end of this. Perhaps it's time to break my rule of leaving major characters alive, after all. See, the more I delve into this AU and the more I read on here (and on sites dedicated to the books), the more I want a bullet to sail right in between SuperCop's eyes…or through his Boys. Is that bad? I think it is but I don't really care. So, the beat goes on and I hope you guys enjoy the update. Oh, and for those wondering, I'm gonna try and update _Butterfly_ before the end of the week.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>"<em>Stephanie, I expect to see you at dinner tonight at 6. Bring your…<em>_**Carlos**__…if you must_."

"No.", I replied flatly, causing an small gasp to sound through the line.

Yes, mother. I just told you no. As in negatory. As in _**nyet**_, _**nein**_, and _**non**_…

"_**Excuse me?**_"

"You heard me. I don't want to sit through an hour and a half of you trying to push other guys off on me, nagging at me to quit my job, dad and grandma arguing, or half dried out pot roast. I want to spend a quiet evening with my boyfriend and my hamster and that's exactly what I'm gonna do."

Said boyfriend was now watching me like a hawk but I continued carefully painting my toes a nice matte mauve in my living room. Carlos had surprised me with a box of hamster accessories for Rex. He had bought another incubator and a tunnel to connect them both. He also had picked up a new wheel and a larger soup can, complete with glued in mini cushions. What did me in were the tiny triangular flags he had somehow found: one for each part of my heritage, an American flag, a Cuban flag, and a black one with the RangeMan logo on it. They were carefully glued to the outside of the first incubator, the side that anyone approaching would see. When I cheekily asked if we now had joint custody, he had just given me a 200 watt smile in response before using a finger to scratch Rex's little belly.

My Big Badass Batman Ranger is such a sweetie when he puts his mind to it. Not that I'd ever tell him that. I may want to poke him with a stick sometimes but I certainly don't want him shipping me in a crate to Siberia anytime soon…

Anyway, _**our**_ hamster baby was chilling like a villain on top of his right shoulder, snoozing like a docile, non biting furry little lamb. Against his vigorous smiling protests (a very flat "Babe"), I snapped a series of pictures on my Droid and pocketed it for safekeeping. New screensaver? Hells, yeah…

"_He is __not__ your boyfriend!_"

"Yes, he is! And he's gonna stay my boyfriend as long as he wants. He's not a drug dealer or a pimp. He is a successful businessman and a man who has literally put his balls on the line to keep this country safe. **He is a good man**. Plus, I'm sure everyone's filled you in about what happened at the Precinct and at the High School parking lot. You know that he's my serious boyfriend, which is what you've been telling me to get since that whole mess with The Dick. What's your problem?"

"_What do you __**really**__ know about him, Stephanie? He's an outsider_…"

I rolled my eyes at the typical Burg argument and sat up fully.

"I know that he's Cuban-American. I know that his parents are alive and he's got a huge family, at least 40 people. I know that he was born in Newark and graduated 4th in his class in Miami. I know that he went over to Afghanistan three times, got into the Rangers and that he's still a Colonel in the Army. I know he's got an older brother and 4 older sisters. He's got a goofball cousin named Lester and he's been best friends with Tank going on 13 years. His favorite shade is black and his favorite color is light blue, same as my eyes. He carries two guns and a knife at all times, he hates beets and reality TV, and most importantly, I know that he loves me and I love him back just as hard. Accept him as a permanent part of my life or lose my number. And in case you didn't hear me the first time, me and my man aren't coming anywhere near there for dinner tonight. Good-bye."

"_Stephanie Michelle Pl_-"

The sound of the dial tone cutting her off never sounded sweeter. I took out my earpiece and pointedly turned off my Droid. My land-line started to ring but I matter of factly unplugged the jack before folding my arms across my chest. I will not be browbeaten any longer. I am not going to force my square peg self into a round, respectable hole to make everyone else happy anymore. I'm a grown ass woman and I can make my own informed decisions about what and who I want to do and love.

I want to be a bounty hunter and a researcher for RangeMan. I want to be a female MacGyver and come up with crazy good ways to protect myself and others. I want to be a good loyal friend to the Dudes and Mooner and Lula and Connie and Mary Lou. I want to be a good loyal friend to Carlos and I want to love him in every way that's legal. And maybe even a few illegal ways, too. I just want to be happy and damn it, I'm _**going **_to be happy. I deserve some happy, goddamn it: Burg traditions, Morelli, and my mother be damned!

"Proud of you, Babe." Carlos said in a softer version of his usual tender tone with me. Balancing on my heels to preserve my toes, I crossed to him and sat on his lap, my eyes locked on his firmly. Carefully, he set Rex in his first home and wrapped his arms around me tenderly tight.

"I stood up to my mom. _**No one**_ stands up to my mom. Not even my dad and grandma."

"You did great. You…you really think I'm a good man?"

"Fuck yeah. Why shouldn't I?"

"I've done things…"

"Love, everyone's done some fucked up shit in their lives and knowing you, I'm sure you had a really good reason to do the fucked up shit. You're not a beast. Sure you've got a raging beast between your legs that I adore…"

"Babe." he chuckled.

"…but overall, you're not a beast, you're a man. A good man. _**My**_ man."

"Lucky you." he deadpanned, making me whack him upside the head with spare piece of foam before kissing him.


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note: Happy Friday, y'all. And now it's time for another CMW2 version of a Canon Event: Stephanie's first Distraction. Again, I've only heard about this via various fics on here so if I'm off, let me know. And if you like it better than the canon version (a thankfully growing trend with this little ditty), let me know too. Oh, and for all intents and purposes in this story, Steph can definitely hold her liquor. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>As soon as I opened and dropped the trench coat, I knew that I had achieved my objective. Lester's face lit up like Christmas had come early, Tank looked impressed, Cal looked like he was going to pass out (bless his heart…), Bobby's eyebrows were kissing his hairline and Carlos…<p>

A very low growl rumbled in his chest and I felt vaguely like a gazelle in front of a hungry lion as his eyes roamed leisurely over me. I had called Lula to come shopping with me (and give her some but not all the Carlos related details that she's been hounding me for…) and together, we came up with a whole hot Distraction wardrobe.

A Distraction is another RangeMan thing like a Redecorating Job. The Core Team plus a female operative track down a skip and follow him to his chosen debauched watering hole. The female operative is wired and goes in with backup to find and convince via feminine wiles the skip to accompany her someplace "a little more private". Once the Horny Heathen gets in the predetermined place, he is captured and thrown out of a moving vehicle in front of the Precinct. Okay, that last bit isn't true. The skip's brought in by civilized means but you get the picture.

The previous female operative (a Jeanne Ellen Burrows) had a tendency to try and take on the skip outright, causing them to either get away or be captured with collateral and property damage through the roof. After half of a large bond (275 grand!) had to be sacrificed in order to rectify said damages, Jeanne Ellen had been benched permanently and Distractions had gone the way of the Dinosaur…until tonight.

"You like?" I asked Carlos cheekily, poking him with a stick once again.

He gestured for me to turn around and I did so slowly, letting him get the 360 degree Sexpot Experience. I had on a soft gold corset top that stopped two inches above my navel, a dark brown pleated skirt that was thigh length, and the piece de resistance: a pair of knee high patent leather 4 inch boots. The heels themselves weren't stilettos (in case I had to book) but they were still fiercely sexy. Going off of Lester's Lion King reference, I had teased my crazy curls into a wild mane with a gold and emerald green flexiband holding it together. Thick black eyeliner made my cerulean eyes look even bigger and my lips were painted a soft, kiss you everywhere pink. I had my knuckles on under buttery soft brown leather fingerless gloves and I had gotten a new manicure. Stepping forward, I let a gold nail trace gently under Carlos' chin and let out a low, sultry purr. A visible shiver racked his form and he swallowed a couple of times before speaking to me, his accent much more noticeable…

"If the skip doesn't follow you out, he's either brain dead or gay. Jesus _**Christ**_, Stephanie…" he finally said in a pale imitation of usual calm deadpan tone.

Huh. And to think I never thought I'd be able to hear that epithet in a positive way. Stepping away from him to let him simmer down, I gave the Dudes a finger wave.

"_**So**_…which one of you lucky fuckers gets to wire me?"

Carlos' growl was a lot louder as Cal stepped forward with shaky knees and I gave him a sharp warning one of my own in response. Now, I don't mind a little possessiveness in a relationship. Honest I don't. After all, I'm one pretty possessive bitch myself and don't let me think that a guy's cheating on me. From Buicks to Newspaper Headlines, I can and will gladly make a guy's (and the tramp's) life hell for screwing me over. But Cal's harmless. Underneath all those muscles and the flaming ink is a sweetie and I'm definitely not afraid to say so. He's fiercely loyal to Carlos and so shy that he'd never ever make a move on me, even if he wanted to.

Carlos blinked at me owlishly again (his surprised gesture) but visibly calmed down, listening to his brain instead of his libido for now. Good. Now's not the time for all that. Once we catch this guy, he can get as primal as he wants with me. Right now, though, it's Work Time. I unzipped the top a little, revealing a brand new leopard print strapless bra and held still as Cal's shaky fingers secured the wire into the top. I accepted the wireless earpiece from him with a soft smile and he gave me one in response before getting back into the van.

"_S-Stephanie, can you hear me? Can everybody hear me?_"

"I hear you, buddy. Are you okay?"

"_Y-yeah. I...I'm gonna stay in here. With you looking…like you're looking…I'm not gonna be able to keep a level head during this if I'm inside with you. Like my mind, n-not the other…you know what I…shit! I'm staying in here, okay_?"

I chuckled with the rest of the Dudes and turned to face Carlos. The steel from the Redecorating Job was on his face again and I stood up straighter, awaiting his orders.

"Brown and Santos will be inside if you need some help. Are you armed?"

Moving aside my skirt, I showed him one of my daggers and I opened my black clutch to reveal my cuffs and 9mm underneath my makeup and wallet.

"Good girl. Any questions or concerns?"

"Unh-unh. I trust you and the guys to keep my skin intact."

He drew me into a quick but sultry kiss on the lips and then turned me towards the entrance.

"Go 'em tiger."

"It's lioness, baby." I corrected before strutting inside.

It's on like Donkey Kong.

_**/**_

"Well, hello. I don't think I remember seeing you here before."

"It's my first time here. I'm new to this part of town and I'm looking for a little action. You wanna to buy me a drink?"

"Do I?"

"I asked you first, honey. What's your name?"

"David. And yours?"

"Nala. Now, about that drink you were gonna buy me…"

David Harrison chuckled and sat down on the stool next to me, looking just as normal as any other guy on the street. He wasn't, though. Underneath that All American, apple pie exterior is a monster. He stabbed one of his girlfriends and raped two more before coming here to lay low. There was a 120 grand bond on him, dead or alive, and it's taking every bit of control not to go with the dead option. All three women were young, slender, party girl brunettes with big blue eyes…

"What would you like?"

"A shot of 1800, please. Straight. No, scratch that. Some salt."

"1800, huh? You sure you can handle it?"

Channeling my inner sex goddess, I met Harrison's dark brown gaze head on.

"I can handle anything you throw at me."

The skip's laughter turned my stomach but I kept it cool, downing my shot like a champ and slowly licking the salt from my fingertips with a pop. Harrison was mesmerized and I smiled softly at him, relishing the burn going down my throat. 1800 is one of my favorite drinks of choice when I'm on the town…

"So, what's your story? Why on Earth is a fine woman like you drinking alone?"

"I needed a break from my boyfriends."

"Boyfriends?"

I sighed and let a slightly dreamy smile curve my lips, spinning my yarn like a spider...

"Yeah. It started with Ricky but all his friends were just so nice and so damned fine, I couldn't help but go after all of them. Didn't really take much effort and Ricky wasn't even mad. He just drew up a schedule. Now, they can't get enough of me. All 5 of them. Tonight was supposed to be Group Sex Night but I'm still sore from what Calvin did to me last night with that riding crop and the Reddi Whip. Don't get me wrong, I loved it but…even I have my limits, you know?"

I could hear one guy choking (probably Cal) and saw Lester stifling his laughter but Harrison was definitely intrigued. Evidence of his intrigue was starting to press against his fly and slowly, I leaned forward to grab some peanuts, giving him a bird's eye view of my Vicky S enhanced cleavage. Now, his intrigue was at full mast and it was time to get this fucker away from me and to Carlos…

"You know, a woman like you deserves some gentle treatment. I'd be happy to provide…"

I cut off his statement with a gentle finger and then did the same move I did to Carlos earlier, his eyes drooping in delight.

"That's a great idea and I know just the little place we can go to."

Standing up, I extended my hand to him and he took it instantly, letting me lead him out the door calmly. Strutting, I got to the back of the van and smiled up at him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders like we were going to dance.

"Before we can get started, I need to tell you something important."

"Anything, baby."

"Don't freak out, Mmkay?"

"Scout's honor. What is it?"

I finally let the revulsion I felt show on my face and I brought his ear down to my lips.

"You're in violation of your bond agreement." I whispered softly, causing Tank and Carlos to melt out of the shadows with quiet malice.

And then my knee came up and gave his Boys a blistering kiss good night, folding Harrison like a cheap suit.

Serves you right, asshole.


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Note: Today is a good day. It's warm and sunny and my mom got me this awesome Star Trek shirt at Wal-Mart yesterday. It's dark blue and it's got Leonard Nimoy's Spock on it and it says, "Trek Yourself before you Wreck Yourself" It's totally nerdtastic and I plan on wearing it until it literally falls apart. I'm glad you guys enjoyed my version of a Distraction but the night's still young. Our heroes have to be starving and what better way to celebrate success than with Thai food and more Morelli related drama? Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>Into every kickass night, a little rain must fall. Sometimes it's literal but this time, it's in the form of Morelli entering Cho's with Joyce Barndhart in tow. Wow. If he was looking to make me jealous (something I <em><strong>really<strong>_ hope is not true but knowing his games…), he certainly picked the wrong broad. As I mentioned before, Joyce Barndhart is the Burg's answer to the Town Bicycle. Anywhere, anyone, anything…she's done at least twice. She used to be overweight and one of those kids who would spit in your tapioca to take it but with time (and a multitude of urban renewal), she had become a shapely hourglass of doom.

Men flock to her like the Sirens in **The Odyssey** and like the Sirens, she destroys them. She's a mistress to many a husband and she had been the slut that The Dick decided to "prove his manhood" with. She turns my stomach and I know that she certainly hates me.

She shot me a smug look as they passed and I inclined my head in acknowledgment. Keeping her gaze, I picked up Carlos' free hand and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it. Not even missing a beat, he slid an arm around me and tucked me into his side. Joyce's vamp red lips parted in shock and I looked away from her to take a swig from my glass of sake. My corset top had been replaced by an emerald v-neck sweater but I was still very much a sexpot. The possessive way that Carlos kept me near him proves that. Morelli's gaze kept wandering to and lingering on me but I'm determined to ignore him in favor of Cal's story of how he got his trademark tattoo…

"…so, after all that craziness, I wake up in some shitty little hotel room. It wasn't the one we started in and my shirt and shoes were gone, probably thrown up a tree by Snake and my head was on fire. It wasn't just an "I'm never gonna drink again until next Friday" on fire, either so I staggered to a mirror and there it was, plain as day. Flaming skull on my goddamned head."

"Oh, my God!" I laughed with the guys, including a chuckling Carlos. Once he's comfortable, Cal's a hoot and a very good storyteller. From memories of growing up in Tucson to this post tour bender in Brazil, he's got more material than 10 Hollywood studios.

"I know! So, I'm standing there, pissed to high heaven and ready to go shit down Snake's neck and then I hear a lot of cursing from the can. I knew it was Otto so I opened the door to ask him if he knew where the fuck we were and who the fuck mangled my head and I see him and he's got his own ink. Smack dab in the middle of his forehead was a sparkly unicorn with rainbow wings and keep in mind that Otto's about Tank's size…"

"_**Damn**_…" Lester and I drawled before dissolving into hiccuping hysterics.

"… so needless to say, he was far from a happy camper when we caught up with Snake a week later. Between the both of us, we fucked him up so bad that he was pissing blood for a month. Since my ink is considered badass, I decided to keep it but Otto got his removed post haste. He told me that it hurt like a motherfucker but it was all good because the doctor that took it off ended up being his wife. Sweet lady. They've got at least 5 kids, now. I haven't talked to him in a couple of years…"

A shadow crossed over the table and I turned to see a recovered Joyce looking at me like I was gum under her navy hooker boots. With her red and white vinyl bustier and black hot pants, she looked like a horrible Stark Street mutation of Wonder Woman…

"Hello, Joyce. How are you this lovely evening?" I greeted with full Burg manners.

"Oh, I'm fine. Not as fine as _**you**_ were at _**Wildfire**_, though. I saw you pick up some guy…" she sneered judgmentally with an imperious toss of her dyed red hair. Oh, like you're St. Teresa in here, slut? Please…

"He was a high bond raping stabbing Skip, Joyce, not a contestant on **Blind Date**. I'm a bounty hunter now, something that you attempt and fail at doing yourself. I mean, come on. The only reason you have a job is because my cousin's a horny stupid bastard. Anyway, the guys needed my help in getting him out of the bar so I decided to use my real tits for good instead of evil. Maybe you should try it with your fake ones sometime. It might be a welcome change of pace from stealing husbands and spreading the clap. How _**is**_ Dickie, anyway? Still doing law from the back of the ice cream truck factory?"

"I wouldn't know. I haven't seen Richard in a long time" she replied through gritted teeth, her faux smile weakening by the second.

"Of course you haven't. After all, thanks to me, he's barely got enough money to get a SuperSoaker much less cater to your whims. Although, I must say your that standards have lowered dramatically since then. First Vinnie and now Morelli? Way to scrape the bottom of the barrel…"

"At least, I'm not playing slut to a drug dealer and his henchmen!"

"Aw, did wittle Joey tell you that lie to save his wittle ego? How sweet. Did he also tell you how I've turned his stupid begging ass down 4 times in the last 6 weeks? FYI, Joyce: I'm not playing slut to anyone. What I have with Ranger is 100% legit and only between us. He loves me and I love him dearly. Something else that you know _**nothing**_ about. Why don't you go back over there and order some food…or just leave? You're making the air go stale in here, anyway."

"Bitch!"

"And proud of it! Get lost, Barndhart!"

I placed my .357 on the table to accent my statement and with another toss of her hair, she flounced back to her table, demanding to leave. Morelli looked at me angrily but I kept my blank face on, picking up my gun menacingly. Cho wouldn't mind me shooting him. He knows the whole sordid tale and he promised that if Morelli ever got in his reach, he'd take a Ginsu knife set to him, including the carving fork. Not to mention my newfound love of Roulette. I clicked off the safety and widened my eyes, the international "Do something, I double dog dare ya!" gesture.

His Adam's apple bobbed like a turkey waddle for a couple of seconds but he walked out behind a now ranting Joyce, shoving her into his new truck. His eyes had softened to pleading puppy dog again but as I've said before, I am a woman of my word. No more pricks and nothing to do with anyone named Morelli in my bedroom. No exceptions, no exchanges. Cash only, please...

So, while flipping him off before kissing Carlos dead on the mouth may throw more fuel onto the fire, I did it all out of principle. Good, reasonable principle...

Sticking to one's principles is a great sign of maturity, after all.


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Note: Good afternoon, y'all. And now back into Ranger's head. I love writing for him because it's always a challenge to keep him true to character. Plus, even if I can't, I can mold him into an improved (if that's even possible) version. I'm glad you guys liked the first appearance of Joyce Barndhart and she'll be back in the future. I'm also thinking of doing some the canon mayhem, too. Maybe a CMW2 version of the mess with the Slayers or even Scrog. Let me know what you guys think. If I do, I'm gonna need help so a volunteer Beta/JE mentor would be lovely.**

**I'm also pleased to see that you guys like how I'm handling the Morelli/Steph thing. I've always seen it as an unhealthy, Stockholm's Syndrome-esque thing in the Books and I've always thought that she deserves better than him and sometimes Ranger, too. In the future, I'd like to see a viable third party in the JE love game (other than Diesel…) and see how the other two react. They should actually have to work for her, you know? Of course, in the end I'd like to see a canon Babe HEA but…well, that's what this site's for, right? Enjoy the update.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p><strong>4 weeks later…<strong>

The whole gym went silent as the grave as I hit the mats with a loud bang and Steph's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Yes, Babe, you've finally taken me down. Now, what are you going to do to keep me down? I started to move but she leapt onto my back heavily, holding my head down with an elbow to the nape of my neck. The cool metal of handcuffs closed around my wrists and she yanked me onto my knees by the hair (ow!), facing her. She was completely focused, her eyes sharp and cool in her expressionless face. Her ever present razor pressed hard into my neck and I knew if I shifted even half an inch, she'd draw blood. Good. Very, very good…

"Excellent, Stephanie."

She snapped out of her zone and removed the blade with a shaky but pleased smile.

"Uh…yeah. I guess so. Are you okay?" she asked shyly as she uncuffed me.

No, I'm not but I don't plan on telling her that anytime soon.

"I'm fine, Babe. Why?"

Her cerulean eyes screamed "Bullshit!" but I didn't bat an eye at it.

"You hit the mat really hard, man! Like window rattling hard! There's like a Ranger shaped dent in it and everything…" she argued.

If I thought it wouldn't hurt, I'd laugh at her wild gesture towards said dent.

"That's a good thing. Imagine if it was concrete. Your skip would be in a world of hurt, right now."

And weeping for his or her mother...

"True. Um…you don't mind me knocking you on your ass in front of your men, do you? I mean, I know I'm your Padawan and all but doesn't it undermine your authority a bit?"

"No, quite the opposite. The fact that you've managed to take me down already shows that I was right in taking you on as an apprentice and an employee."

"And that you weren't just thinking with your dick because I'm pretty and we're screwing." she tacked on with no malice.

"Exactly."

"Mmkay. Now, what?"

"Go and do 30 minutes on the treadmill at walking speed. When you're done, get yourself cleaned up and we'll go to the range."

"Okay."

As per usual, she pressed a kiss to my cheek before retreating, waving at Brown and Santos as they came in the area. Once I was sure she was out of earshot, I stood up with a hiss. She hadn't just flipped me to the mats, she _**slammed**_ me to the mats and of course, I had forgone a shirt today. By the way my back feels, I'm pretty sure that there's gonna be a nice sized bruise by lunch. Proud of you, Babe…ow…

Brown laughed quietly and asked, "You good?"

"Getting there. She knocked the fucking wind out of me."

"She dropped Tank a couple of days ago. I mean, in the end, she nailed him in the dick to do it but still…she dropped him. If she can drop him, no one's safe." Santos pointed out sagely, throwing a towel at my head.

Tank was a powerhouse, not just because of his size but because of the skills he had picked up during his time in the Dark Ops Circuit. He was one of the few people who could seriously kick my ass and it took recruits at least 6 months to come close to dropping him. The fact that Steph's pulled it off in less than 3 is remarkable.

And besides, he should've remembered to put a cup on before tangoing with her. I only had to experience her Nutcracker Knee once and it was enough to last me ten lifetimes. Pure, unadulterated agony. She had done it on pure instinct and had been very contrite about it but still…shit.

"She's exceeding all of my expectations."

Moving to the window, I spotted her on the treadmill near the door, smiling as Woody and Zero talked shit while lifting. She said something to add to it because the other men started howling and both of them added at least 20 more pounds to their loads. When the two stooges shot her dirty looks, she flipped them off and crossed her eyes until they started laughing, too. She's been a breath of fresh air around here. We're still a bunch of hardass military men but she's made it acceptable to be a little human sometimes. There was laughter and all sorts of new double entendres, courtesy of her. I had tried to get the men to keep their sick minds to themselves but Steph had dissuaded me from that kick quickly…

"_Carlos, I don't care if you guys get sick, twisted, and wrong sometimes. You're men. You do that best. Well, other than war, sports, blowing stuff up, and nut scratching. As long as you guys keep in mind that being a perv's equal opportunity, it's all good. Besides, you deserve a woman as mentally and sexually sick as you are, anyway..."_

And that's yet another reason why I love her.


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's Note: I've been up since 3AM and other than brief cat naps, I've yet to get back to sleep. I'm trying to wear myself out via media and heavy food (I cooked what was supposed to be chicken stew but turned into chicken and dumplings in the crock pot) but I'm not having much luck. What better time than this than to update? I'm glad you guys liked Steph kicking Ranger's ass a little bit and I'll be sure to revisit that later, too. Now, let's continue the latest chapter of Padawan Plum and Jedi Master Manoso…huh. That sounded a lot less kinky in my head. Need…sleep…**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>An entire clip of bullets sailed into the paper man's head and she picked up another clip smoothly, giggling like a schoolgirl. Anywhere other than Jersey and the cops would ban her from firearms for life. And a sane man would be running in the other direction.<p>

Good thing I'm not sane. Damn, she's hot…

"Not done." she informed me flatly (just as I had that first day…) before sending bullets in a straight line downwards. Neck, diaphragm, gut, and of course, the rest in the groin. The groin's her favorite place to inflict pain. Well, other than my back when we're in bed but I deeply enjoy that pain. She put the safety back on and pressed the button, bringing her sheet forward. She held it up in front of her and stuck her face through the large hole in the head. I snorted as she let the paper hang over her body, a supermodel pout on her lips as she "vogued"…

"I think I've hit on the next big thing in fashion. Paper and smoking bullet holes. If I can get Lady Gaga or Katy Perry to put it on, I'll be set for life." she declared cheerfully, making me shake my head in deep amusement as I took it off her.

"_**Loca**_…" I declared fondly, making her roll her eyes.

"I'll arrange a play date for your pot and my kettle, Crazy Soldier Boy."

"Is that a proposition, Stephanie?"

"_**No**_, nasty."

"You weren't calling me nasty last night." I brought out with an arched brow.

"That's because my mouth and more than a little bit of my throat was otherwise occupied by a big, thick Cuban stogie." she replied sweetly with a pointed tug on my belt.

"Babe!"

"Equal opportunity perversion at all times, Ranger! Do your thing. I'm gonna go see if I can talk Ax down on that knife sharpening kit I saw a couple of weeks ago. If he thinks he can charge me 40 bucks for something I can swipe from my dad's junk drawer, he's got another thing coming…"

And out the door she went. Since she wasn't on the clock per se, she had on a pale blue sundress and a pair of navy heels, exposing her mile long legs. Her hair was down and today's headband was white with black polka dots. Were it not for the .357 holstered securely on her right thigh (and the fact that she's aggressively haggling for combat gear instead of bread), she'd look like a schoolteacher or a librarian. After a couple of minutes, Ax sighed and nodded, laughing at her little hop of triumph. Wow. I didn't know the old bastard could laugh. Of course, the same could be said about me (minus the old part) before Steph entered my life. She makes me human, approachable and a little bit softer. Not too soft but just enough for a positive difference.

Even the sheep like citizens of the Burg can see it. I don't get as many looks of fear on the street and I even had one old lady scold a skip from her stoop for trying to fight me. She called me a "nice young man" and told him that if he didn't let me do my job in protecting the community, she'd sic her Fluffy on him. Since Fluffy was a very large, hungry looking pit-bull, things had settled down nicely. Of course, Morelli and Stephanie's excuse for a mother still think of me as a monster but their opinions are irrelevant. All of them are, really. The only Trenton citizen's opinion that I truly care about at the end of the day is Stephanie's.

As long as she still believes that I'm a good man, I'm fine.


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's Note: And the beat goes on. I'm still tired (and cranky) and kinda ill but I'm okay for now. This is the last chapter in Ranger's head for this section and I hope you guys enjoy it. It's a little emotional maturity to go along with our Babe fluffernutter. Oh, and an update to _Butterfly_ will be at hand soon. Hopefully before Wednesday.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>When she suddenly pressed hard on the red tinged bruise, I couldn't help but hiss in sharp pain. She let out an annoyed huff and got right in my face, glaring at me hotly.<p>

"I _**knew**_ you were bullshitting me when you said you were fine. On your stomach, now."

To accent her order, she shoved me to the bed and headed back into the bathroom. She sounded more worried than angry, which was good. Making her worry about me was less than good. Oh, yeah. Damage control is definitely on the agenda tonight. I turned my head and watched as she came out with the tube of bruise balm and a large bandage. She had on a lacy bra and panty set that matched her last name and one of my black dress shirts. Purple and white striped knee socks finished the look and I wanted to take them off of her. Everything off but my shirt, actually…

"Don't you dare look at me with dirty in your eyes, Ricardo Carlos Manoso. Not only are you hurt from earlier, you lied to me about it all fucking day. I'm pissed at you. Now hold still, damn it." she scolded as she straddled my ass.

Her words were harsh but her hands weren't. Not only did they focus on my injury, they moved over my back, kneading and tending to the persistent knot at the nape of my neck. After she was done, I reached and rubbed at her left knee gently, not wanting her off of me just yet. She bent and pressed a kiss to the bandage, fully relaxing the barrier between my brain and my mouth.

"I didn't want to worry you, Stephanie."

A soft sigh sounded and her body lost much of its angry tension. Good…

"I'm your woman, Carlos. I'm _**supposed**_ to worry about you. You worry about me, don't you?"

"Always.", I admitted.

"Then why can't I worry about you?"

The hurt in her tone made me turn onto my back so I could see her. I didn't keep my injury from her to hurt her. I never wanted to hurt her…

"I never said that you couldn't. It's just…I'm not used to this kind of thing. Having a woman not related to me worry about me."

"That's because you didn't let them get close enough to worry about you until me.", she brought out matter of factly.

"Exactly. I'm new at this, Stephanie. I've never been in a real relationship before. I've never really depended on anyone to take care of me but me."

"I understand that perfectly but dude, you can't keep stuff like this from me! If you're hurt or worried or pissed, I need to know that, especially if I'm a major part of the reason why! Even if you yell, I can take it! Hell, I'll even dish it back out! Even an emotional retard like me knows that a good relationship requires steady, two-way communication! Now, I'm not asking you to become a Chatty Kathy because I'd totally ship you off to the Funny Farm if that happened without you being high on something _**crazy**_ good…"

A bark of laughter escaped me and a smile played at her lips as she pressed a kiss to my brow.

"…but, yeah. No more of the stoic, macho bullshit. Talk to me, if you need to. Whatever it is, I won't tell. I've always been a Haunted House broad when it comes to secrets and other heavy shit like that."

"Haunted House broad?"

"What comes in doesn't come out without a fight."

Remarkable. She's simply remarkable and much more level headed than I gave her credit for. She struck me as one of those women who went completely apeshit when in an argument. Yelling, gestures, the whole Jersey Girl works. She's certainly capable of it. Her interactions with Morelli, Barndhart, and her mother prove that but…maybe, not with me. Or maybe the fact that I yielded to her early cut the anger off at the pass. Something to think about…


	25. Chapter 25

**Author's Note: Hey. So, I'm sending Ranger in the Wind. After this next batch of six, he's going in the Wind. Normally, I do a little deux ex machina and get him out of his contract but not this time. I've always liked it when he goes in the Wind with an established Babe relationship and I look forward to the challenge of doing it in this AU. Those chapters will be in both POVs. However, this section is in Steph's head and I hope you guys enjoy it. And the _Butterfly_ update is coming, y'all. I swear on all things chocolate. **

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>"Well, this is a treat. I'm surprised that Manoso lets you out of his sight more than 10 seconds, <em><strong>Stephanie.<strong>_"

Ah, lovely. Morelli's here. With a roll of my eyes, I continued doing my pull ups (I'm up to 22, now) and I could feel him watching me. Once I got used to the whole working out thing, I found that I'm really good at it and it shows. I can run longer, climb over high fences, and jump from places without worrying about killing myself (or breaking my arm). Not to mention that my body's become streamlined from it all. I still have curves but they're tighter and I actually have abs. They're not like Fergie's or Gwen Stefani's but still…abs!

In order to supplement my training with Carlos (and save on gas), I decided to join the fitness center at the Burg border. It had been built a few years ago and now offered everything from aerobics to Zumba. When I have insomnia, I don't toss and turn anymore. I get up, drink a little coffee (or Mountain Dew) and come here for a while. I can do my workout routine sans running and make it home in time for sleep or for Carlos to arrive for the day. From 10PM on, the weight room was practically empty and the perky trainers knew better than to bother me, now.

Now, if only this fool could take a fucking hint…

"_**Carlos**_ knows better than to try and make me do anything. What do you want?" I asked while lowering myself to my feet.

"Hey, it's a free country! I can be here if I want to!" he pointed out defensively.

"I know it's a free country and you're not just here, you're annoying me…**again**."

"Well, if you'd just hold still and talk to me, I wouldn't annoy you!"

"Somehow, I don't believe you."

After the thing at Cho's, Morelli's made it point to be seen by me with different women around town every weekend. He's also made it a point to be in Receiving just as I come around. When he tries to initiate non- Skip related conversation, I keep my mouth shut, just looking at him with dead eyes until he gives up and lets me go about my business. He's been spotted at my mother's every Wednesday night and he once sent me a chocolate eclair when I had stopped at the Tasty Pastry for a break. I "accidentally" knocked it to the floor and when the time came to leave, I made sure to step on it. It took a while to get it all off of my boot but the 'Fuck off!' sentiment was clear to everyone. Everyone but him, anyway…

"Look, I'm not trying to interfere with whatever the hell you and Manoso call yourselves doing. I just want to be your friend again. You remember that we used to be friends, don't you?"

"Yeah and look how beautifully _**that**_ turned out." I said with mock cheer as I started pedaling on the bike.

"Yeah, yeah…I know. I'm a Pre-K fingering, virginity stealing bastard and the scum of the fucking Earth. Look, I was young and dumb. I shouldn't have done that shit to you and if I could take it back, I would. But, I can't. I'm just asking for a clean slate. A new beginning. You say that Manoso lets you make your own decisions…"

"No, I said that I make my own decisions without anyone's permission, even Carlos'. And **_my_** decision is to have as little to do with you or anyone else named Morelli as possible. See, I've got a clean slate kick of my own going and I don't feel like messing it up with you. Now, either work out or go home. You keep on bugging me and I'll charge you with harassment. You said that being a Cop in Jail is worse than Hell. Maybe that'll motivate you."

"Are you threatening an officer of the law?"

"No, I'm promising a stupid prick who won't take a hint that if I can't get him to leave me be on my own, then I can and will make it so his Boys get some attention in the tender loving hoosegow."

"You don't even have any proof of me harassing you!"

"Are you sure?" I volleyed back flatly, making his eyes narrow at me further.

I actually _**do**_ have proof. After the Russian Roulette incident (and after Carlos had some delicious Plum Pie for breakfast…), he recommended that I start logging my interactions with Morelli: date, time, length and gist of conversation, witnesses, and comfort level. All of it was saved on my laptop and in a one subject notebook in my trusty Satchel of Justice. If Morelli decides to take things too far (or I truly get sick of him), I can turn it over to his CO and get him demoted, fired, or locked up as a stalker. I know that he hasn't stolen any of my panties or cut off one Rex's paws (if he did, then Carlos would exterminate him like a Dalek) but…his behavior's enough to arch some brows. With the right lawyer and a little Waterworks, it can be done.

It seems like it _**will**_ be done…

"Jesus Christ, Stephanie! And then you wonder why none of the guys around here want anything to do with you!"

"Why the hell would I want them? I already have a good man and I plan on keeping him. So, are you working out or what? If you hurry, you can get into the midnight hot yoga class." I replied pleasantly, finally making him leave in a snit.

I hissed out an aggravated sigh through my teeth but gave myself a mental pat on the back for not raising my voice once. I've been taking Lester's Negative Circle of Life advice seriously and trying to keep a leash on the Rampaging Rhino. After the grown up First Argument/Conversation Carlos and I had about the bruise, I figured out that keeping calm and carrying on wasn't just for the field. Keeping one's voice down forces people to listen to you and makes yelling even more effective when you have to. I know I said I could take it and throw it back at him if Carlos ever yelled at me (and I could…) but I'd still cry a little because I made him yell. If he's yelling, then shit's real and needs to be handled ASAP. The Receiving Area Shutdown is a prime example. He yelled, Morelli listened for a little while, and shit got handled quickly and effectively because he yelled.

Main Idea of the Lesson: Yelling is a rarely used tool, not a way of life.

I want to have that attitude.

And besides, all that yelling makes a girl's throat sore and I figure that if my throat's gotta hurt, a very tasty Cuban stogie and its equally tasty owner should be involved...

Hey, just because I'm trying to be a grown up now doesn't mean my Hungarian Hormones are dead.


	26. Chapter 26

**Author's Note: Good evening, y'all. I haven't blown up a car yet. This is a Stephanie Plum story and no matter how much twisting I do to the universe, there are some things that are just required. So, now it's time to blow up a car and I hope you enjoy my version of it and Lula and Tank's first meeting. They're gonna be the secondary ship in this little to do.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>"At least I didn't leave my Satchel in there…" I remarked while sitting up slowly from the floor, 2 people hovering concernedly over me.<p>

Once again, I am staring at the burning carcass of a Ford Explorer. Unfortunately, it's actually my car and now, I'm gonna have to ride the bus like a Gypsy. My little makeup mirror trick definitely saved my ass because I finally spotted something weird: something weird with wires and a clock counting down from 15. It must have been triggered when I pressed the unlock button on the way out. With a gulp, I backed away and was just about to bolt when the damned thing went off like a stick of dynamite. Since I was already moving, I was merely thrown backwards and thankfully, the door to the Bonds Office was open or I would've been a battering ram instead of a Nutcracker.

Although, hitting Connie's desk ass first (_**why**_ do I keep hurting my ass doing this damned job?) was far from fun, at least I'm not a piece of chicken from Cluck in a Bucket, extra crispy and extra dead. Oh, fucking Christ…

"At least you didn't leave _**yo'self**_ in there, White Girl! Jesus fucking Christ!"

There were already sirens approaching and I staggered outside, clutching my satchel to me like a lifeline. My ears were ringing a little and a piece of metal had cut my left forearm but other than that, I'm fine…and alive. Sitting down at the edge of the debris field, I pulled my first aid kit out and slowly started to tend to my arm. It only took a minute because the cut wasn't deep (yay, no stitches!) and I chose a sparkly band aid with the Batman logo to keep it clean. I popped a stick of gum to help the ringing and stood up, making my way back to Lula and Connie slowly.

The fire department finally showed up and started tending to the fire…and Morelli was barreling towards me from the gaggle of cops like a runaway train. Shocking me, Lula pulled a silver cannon out of her bra and pointed it dead between his eyes steadily, stopping him cold.

Even with her black spandex leggings, purple go-go boots and electric blue tube top, she looked like someone you wouldn't want to fuck with. She doesn't like Morelli at all and not just because he's a cop. She thinks that he got Carmen Sanchez killed (which I don't agree with…) and she says that he's got lusty mean eyes like a pimp, especially when he looks at me. After Connie and I told her the whole story about me and him, she appointed herself my Burg Bodyguard against him for life, especially since he's still not backing off…

"You ain't gon' cause no type of shit for White Girl today or I'll splatter yo' brains all over this bitch fuck, Cop. We already got enough shit goin' on wit out you addin' to it. You leave her the fuck alone right now and go get that cutie friend of yours. What's his name…Garanza or somethin'?"

"Gazarra and he's married to my cousin Shirley the Whiner."

"Lucky bitch."

Morelli's face twisted and he said through gritted teeth, "I just want to know if she's okay! I'm concerned about her! She shouldn't be doing this crazy ass job, anyway!"

"Says you! White Girl's one of the best damned Bounty Hunters in the city, asshole and it ain't none of yo' damned _**concern**_ if she's okay or not! Y'all ain't friends no more and y'all ain't lovers either, thank Christ! Matter fact, Steph, call yo' man and tell him you gon' be okay. Or better yet, brace yo'self because here he comes."

Carlos was running down the street towards the scene with Tank and I darted from behind the police barricade to meet him in a crushing hug. Tears ran down my face and I did my very best to burrow myself into him. He was in his Ghetto Ranger gear: black track pants and a white wife beater, topped by a black zip up hoodie. I ran my fingers through his hair and he pressed kisses to my brow, my cheeks, my lips…

"Are you okay, Babe?" he asked as he held my face in his hands.

"Physically, yes. Mentally…not so much. It was a bomb strapped to the bottom of my car. Someone triggered it when I pushed the unlock button and if…if I hadn't checked the truck, it would've…_**I**_ would've…" I broke off with a sob.

"I know. You're gonna be okay, Stephanie. You did great." he murmured as he started stroking my hair.

"I did?"

"You're not dead because you were aware of your surroundings. That's good."

His voice cracked a little and I met his concerned dark gaze, managing to give him a small smile through my tears. Even though he hasn't said it, my car getting torched scared him and he's glad that I'm okay. Unlike Morelli, he's not trying to yell at me or put me down or trying to make me quit and do something safe and respectable. He accepts me as I am. And I know that even if I wasn't his Padawan, he'd be that way and it's very comforting, just like his arms. Mmm…

"Ma'am, I think you can put the gun away."

We watched as Tank approached a still fuming (and armed) Lula slowly. Her eyes went from a retreating Morelli to him and the tip of her tongue darted across her lips as she looked him up and down. Interesting…

"He needs to get the fuck outta here. He's not here to be a Cop, he's here to hurt my friend. I ain't got many of 'em and I ain't gon' let nobody, even a Cop, mess with my girl!"

"Okay. Just lower the barrel, then…"he prompted

"Tallulah. Tallulah Ivy Jackson. Everybody calls me Lula, though." she replied shyly, making me and Carlos exchange a look.

"My name's Pierre Michael Sherman III. Everyone calls me Tank, though."

_**Pierre?**_ Tank's name is Pierre? Damn, no wonder he went to the Army…

"Fuckin' A right, you a Tank. A damned fine one, if I do say so myself. You work with Batman and White Girl?" Lula asked with a nod towards us.

"Yeah.", he chuckled.

"Then I ain't got a problem wit you. Matter fact, here. Take this and keep it outta my reach until Morelli's gone. I can't _**stand**_ his stupid ass!"

Morelli shot her a dark look as her voice carried across the barricade but said nothing in reply.

"Are you a Bounty Hunter, too?" Tank asked her gently as he put her cannon at the small of his back.

"Sometimes. Mostly I just do filing and I'm White Girl's bodyguard when she ain't rollin' with y'all. All right, he's gone. Can I have my gun back?"

"What you gon' give me?" Tank teased, making her laugh and cock out a hip as she twirled a strand of reddish/purple hair.

"I don't know. What you want?"

"A date."

"Damn…you RangeMen don't dick around when it comes to romantic shit, do you?"

"No, ma'am. So, are we goin' out or what?"

"Fuck yeah. Friday night. Pick me up at 9. I want to get ribs and you best know how to dance, honey."

Tank gave her the gun back and she sashayed back into the Bonds Office, knowing that his eyes would be glued to her ass.

"That's gonna be interesting. Tank usually doesn't talk to women that quickly."

"Lula's got a way about her."

"Mm. I hope he knows what he's in for."

"He doesn't but I don't think he cares. He's been hit by the Thunderbolt."

Carlos chuckled and led me towards his SUV, letting me climb in slowly. I am definitely done for the day. I need a donut, a nap, and to be cuddled, not necessarily in that order…

"Ooh, maybe we can double date!"

"Babe."


	27. Chapter 27

**Author's Note: Good morning, everyone. I'm sorry for the delay in updating. Illness and other fandoms slowed me down. And now it's time to go out on the town. I hope you guys enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>Lula had on a pair of black spandex pants and a cap sleeved pink leopard print tunic that matched her FMPs. Tank was in the RangeMan standard shade of black but instead of field gear, he was in jeans, sneakers, and a button down shirt. Even though it was a slow song, her back was still against his chest and I grinned like a loon as Tank moved her hair aside to press a kiss to the nape of her neck. Awww…<p>

"They seem to be getting along well."

Not only is Carlos a master at applying pressure, he's a master of understatement, too. We had agreed to meet Lula and Tank at _**Oasis**_ and came in to see them tearing up the dance floor. Deciding to leave them to their own devices, Carlos had led me upstairs to a VIP suite, a perk he had because of RangeMan doing security here. Since it had a Japanese style sliding door, we had left it open just enough to be able to find our friends if all hell breaks loose. Lula looked up at us and I waved, making her smile and press a kiss to Tank's knuckles. Tank turned her around and with a nod to Carlos, led her out the door of the club. We exchanged a knowing look and I slid the door shut gently.

"Something tells me that I'm gonna know a lot more about Tank than I ever wanted to tomorrow."

" Your Spidey Sense?" he chuckled.

"Don't knock it, man. It's kept me out of jail and the grave more times than I can count. Of course if I don't listen to it, it's useless. Morelli and the Dick prove that."

I still wince when I think about how stupid I was with them. I let one of them get to me with oozing charm and the other I just dealt with to make my mother shut up. God knows that it didn't work. Even after my triumphant shut-down of her, she still calls me nagging and now, she's back to trying to set me up with Morelli. My Golden Log Book of Truth is nearly full and I know I'm gonna end up with at least 2 more before the end of the year. He still shows up at the fitness center when I'm there but he actually works out, now. He makes a point of taking off his shirt slowly but I just roll my eyes. He may be attractive but he's no Carlos. Not to mention that I never did like that eagle tattoo of his. Anyway, he's in cahoots with my mother and I haven't been over to dinner since the Paulie incident. And I don't plan on going back anytime soon. According to Bobby, my blood pressure and stress levels have improved dramatically and I know it might be mean but I think staying away from my mother's the smoking gun why. I do miss my dad and grandma, though. Maybe I could go see him at the cab company or take Gram to an open casket funeral. She likes those…

"I smell smoke, babe."

"We're in a club, Ranger."

"Touché. What's on your mind?"

"My family. I haven't really been talking to them. I don't miss the nagging but I do miss my dad and grandma."

"Maybe we could take them to lunch or something.", he suggested calmly.

"We?"

"We. Why wouldn't I want to be around your family?"

"You really need me to answer that?", I asked incredulously.

"Despite what your father says, most of the drama comes from your mother and since you don't want to see her, it should be okay. Although, I really hope that your grandma doesn't try to grope me again.", he replied with a slight wince.

"That's an empty hope. Might I suggest that you wear some undies around her? It'll lessen the sting on your ass...and her grip on your..."

"Babe."


	28. Chapter 28

**Author's Note: Good afternoon And now, it's time for some pre-departure Babeness. The actual _In the Wind_ part won't be too long. As you all know, I'm more of a romance/humor sort of writer instead of an adventure one but I've got an idea and it'll work. So, right now, it's time for a more playful tiff between our heroes. Nothing like the fights in the Books with Steph and SuperCop. I've never liked those. As I've said before, I'm killing Morelli off in at least one of my fics and the Muses will lead me to which one. Enjoy the update.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>"Are you out of your tree? I can't drive your Porsche!"<p>

"Babe."

"Don't you 'Babe' me, man! Obviously, skips are gonna keep targeting my cars and do you know just how expensive that thing is?"

"Of course I do. I bought it.", I deadpanned, causing her to give me her 'eat shit and die' look and Connie to snicker. Lula was shaking with her own mirth and I'm sure that Vinnie is too in his office. The little bastard bugs everything around here. I honestly don't see what the problem is. Stephanie needs another car. I have plenty of cars she could use but I want her to be comfortable. And she likes the Turbo. She says it's an orgasm on wheels all the time almost as frequently as she calls me an orgasm on legs. What's the problem?

"Ranger, I don't want to send your car to Car Heaven, okay? How would I pay you back if I did?"

"You wouldn't have to. It's just a car and better the car than you. Babe, you can destroy anything and anyone you have to just as long as you come home to me intact."

"You're very sweet and you're also missing my point."

"No, I'm not. All right yes, the turbo is expensive and yes, there's a higher chance of it getting blown to Car Heaven if you drive it but I don't care. I want you to be safe. The car is equipped with trackers, bulletproof glass, a panic button and is fully insured. And you're not even the one blowing shit up. It just happens around you. Take the car and use it."

"Carlos…"

"Please, Babe?"

She groaned through clenched teeth and pouted, punching me lightly in the chest.

"You just _**had **_to say please, didn't you? You know I can't say no to you when you frickin' do that!"

"Actually I _**didn't**_ know that. Thanks for the Intel. Take the keys."

"I wanna go on record as saying that this is a bad idea! Ricardo Carlos, this is a bad idea!"

"I respectfully disagree, Stephanie Michelle. Take. The. Keys."

Steph's face twisted, pinched, and relaxed before she finally accepted the keys from me. Wow. Once again, I'm reminded that Stephanie is a whole other brand of woman than I'm used to. Most of them wouldn't hesitate to take anything from me, especially if it's expensive. Particularly if it's expensive. Getting Steph to accept anything from me (other than an orgasm or four…) is like pulling teeth or disarming a bomb. Don't get me wrong. Her independence is one of the main things that draws me to her but sometimes, I just wish she'd let me help her without fighting me. But, my father always told me that a woman always has a right to make her own decisions, even if she is my woman and even if those decisions seem to be to her detriment. A real man supports her endeavors and if all hell breaks loose, then he can help her regardless of protest and suffer the consequences later…

"Your poor car…I'm telling ya! It's a dead man rolling!"

"Stephanie..."

"Look, I want us to have an agreement in case something happens, like a payment plan or…I don't know, something you want me to do while we're naked. I'm game for that. Well, other than butt stuff. I don't do butt stuff, Carlos."

"It's overrated. Stephanie, _**if**_ the car gets blown up, we'll discuss terms. Until then, I want you to calm down, go get one your death donuts, and chase down your skips. I have a meeting but I'll join you for lunch around 2. Okay?"

"Okay. And they're not death donuts, they're Boston Cremes and chocolate coated, vanilla filled awesomeness from the Gods."


	29. Chapter 29

**Author's Note: Good morning. I've just completed a long WIP for the first time in forever and I've been gorging myself in yet another new fandom, this time _The Avengers_. Jeremy Renner is a fine hunk of arrow shooting man steak and I ship Hawkeye and Black Widow so hard it hurts. I'm probably going to see the movie for the third time this weekend so I want to do some updating. Enjoy the short but hopefully sweet update.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>"So, when do you leave?"<p>

"Monday morning. The assignment should last only a month."

"Are you flying solo?"

"Yeah but I'll be able to check in once a week with Tank."

Steph's face brightened marginally at that and I took her shaking hands, making her look up from her lap. After receiving my orders, I had met her at her place. She took one look at me and sat down at her table, braced for impact. Once I assured her that I wasn't ending things between us, she calmed down enough for me to explain what was about to happen. What _**had**_ to happen…_**Dios**_, I don't want to leave her…

"I don't want to leave you, Babe." I informed her frankly.

A shaky smile curved her lips and she twined our fingers together tightly.

"I know that. I really do but you…you have a contract and more importantly, a duty to your country. I totally get it. My dad was over in Vietnam and Grandpa Mazur was in Korea so…I get it. I just don't like it. I mean…what if something happens to you? It's always a possibility and…."

Her lower lip disappeared into her mouth and she looked down again, tears dripping down onto her cargos. Whatever lingering insecurities I had about her feelings for me died right then. She knew that I'd be going away, plunging headfirst into death and destruction but she trusted me enough to come back. She loves me enough to wait for me to come home. She was worried but I knew that she wouldn't try and stop me. If she did, I'd yield to her immediately. We both knew it…

"Here."

She slowly undid her necklace and put it on me, looking at me with serious cerulean orbs as she played with the charm.

"My Grandpa gave me this on my 21st birthday. He passed away shortly afterwards and I always told myself that I'd never take it off but…well, if you gotta go out there and kick ass, I want you to have a piece of me with you. And I want my necklace and especially you back here in one piece, Soldier Boy. You're not allowed to die. You up and made me fall ass over heels in love with you so that means you can't die. You just can't."

"I'll come home to you, Stephanie. I swear to God, I'll come home to you."

"I believe you."


	30. Chapter 30

**Author's Note: Summer is definitely on in my area. I love the heat but today's nasty humidity kept me to my house and my bed. So, it's time to end Ranger's POV and get into the joint In The Wind stuff. It's gonna be pretty straightforward, not too much action and violence but there will be Morelli related nonsense going on while Ranger's gone, as well as another Dinner Time at the Plums scene. I look forward to writing both.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>"My wife doesn't like you."<p>

I absorbed Frank Plum's matter of fact statement and replied bluntly, "I don't like your wife. She treats Stephanie like shit and you let her."

Silence fell between us and I took another bite of Pino's Greek salad. Steph and her grandmother were at a funeral for one of her bingo friends. She said something about it being an open casket, whether the family likes it or not, and that she'd meet us at 2:30. It was past 3 but I didn't mind her being late. I wanted to get a read on her father. He seemed to be a good man, an honorable man even. His military file proved that. What I want to know is how he could let Helen Plum break him down like this? How could he become such a bystander in his own house, especially when came to Stephanie?

Had Vietnam done more damage to him than what was known? It wouldn't be surprising if it had…

After a moment, the man sighed heavily and looked me dead in the eye with a weary version of my Babe's eyes.

"I know. I've been a lousy dad for a while, now. I'd like to change that."

"That would be good. Stephanie and your other daughter deserve that."

Frank nodded in agreement and took a swig of water.

"Do you love my daughter?"

"I do."

"Do you plan on cheating on her or writing about her all over the fucking town?"

"Absolutely not."

"Do you want to marry her?"

"Someday if she'll let me."

The weariness broke and I could see fierce fire in the man's heavily lidded orbs as he glared at me.

"You won't try and force her? You won't make her into something she's not?"

"Absolutely not."

"That Morelli prick and that Orr asshole did that to her. They tried to break her, clip her wings so they could keep her in their respectable, acceptable little boxes. Everyone in the damned Burg's tried to do that, my wife one of the biggest culprits. And I've let them all do what they want just to keep peace in the valley. It hasn't worked. That line of thinking never does."

"No, sir. It doesn't."

"I can man up and be there for her like I should've years ago but you cannot hurt her like the other bastards did. Stephanie would break if you did, soldier. I want your word that you won't break her."

"You have it."

"And that you'll come home alive. I can tell when a man's about to go into a battle zone and you have the look. And Stephanie's necklace. She promised her grandfather on his deathbed that she'd only take it off for someone she loved. My pumpkin doesn't break promises."

"No, she doesn't. Sir, my mission is simple on paper but I'm sure that you're aware of how easily shit can go FUBAR out there. I can't promise that I'll come back alive or even intact but I can promise that I'll do my utmost to get back to Stephanie."

The man's eyes softened and he nodded once, an acceptance and blessing wrapped in one.

"Good."


	31. Chapter 31

**Author's Note: Good evening. And the beat goes on. The recent news of TOS happy monsters lurking in the woodwork worried and quite frankly, pissed me the living hell off. **

**At the end of the day, FFN's supposed to be fun, an outlet for creativity and expressing what one wants to see in their favorite shows, movies, etc, especially when TPTB do stupid shit to our favorite characters, like killing 'em off or hooking 'em with someone obviously toxic. Or when the stuff itself jumps the shark. And what _really _chafes my hide is that most of the Purges aren't even prompted by the head honchos at all.**

**Look, the site shouldn't be tainted by those who don't even write themselves except to flame (there's a very good reason why I don't allow anonymous reviews, anymore and why there are some blocked people on my account…) _or _those who don't flame but are low enough use the TOS option (something that I actually_ do_ agree with…) as a weapon in their chosen shipper wars. No bullshit. It's already happened to at least two of my friends on here. I mean…seriously? _Seriously?_**

**In the immortal words of Chris Rock in _Head of State_: _That ain't right! _It just ain't and I hope we can all get through this mess with our work intact or at least, backed up someplace else away from such bull.**

**Anyway, enjoy the update and if I get Katnissed/Hawkeyed by the TOS Crew (especially in the wake of this admittedly bitchy A/N…), I'll PM you guys with the locations of my back up archives ASAP.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p><strong>Stephanie's POV- Friday Night of Week 1<strong>

"Seriously?"

"I told the delivery guy I'd grab it. The kid was swamped so he jumped at it."

"That's just creepy. You owe me 23.80, Morelli."

Joe's foot stopped my still chained door from slamming and I gave him my coldest glare, a glare that I usually reserved for my skips. All I wanted was a little bit of Pino's to reward myself for getting through the week without crying hysterically from worried loneliness.

Carlos had stayed as long as he could before leaving and I had bit my lip until blood came out to not beg him to stay. I could've. And he would've stayed if I asked. We both knew it but I didn't. Did I really want him going to god knows where, getting shot at by god knows who, and possibly killed? Absolutely not but one thing I've grown to appreciate is how honorable he is, how loyal and committed he is to the people and ideals he believes in. Carlos had to go. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

And like I said, there are military men in my family, both sides and I have always respected the bravery and sacrifices that the troops have to muster up to protect us all. So, although kissing him goodbye and watching him go (normally, something I enjoyed immensely...what a view!) was like stabbing myself in the gut, I did it. Then, I plunged headfirst into my work at RangeMan and Vinnie's. Keeping busy kept my mind off of worrying, as did the guys. They found ways to make me laugh or helped me find something to do during downtimes. Thanks to them, I have at least 12 **Words with Friends** games going on and an appointment for a Girl's Day at one of the spas RangeMan protected in Newark every Sunday until he comes home.

And he_** will**_ come home!

"You're seriously about to flush 25 bucks worth of Pino's down the crapper, your _**favorite**_, just because I touched it?", he asked incredulously, shying away a bit at my glare. Good. It's coming along nicely. Maybe I can get people to cuff themselves in the wake of it like Tank's by the end of the year…

"23.80 and believe me, I've had more than enough Morelli germs to last me a lifetime. You know what, take the salad and breadsticks and give it to whoever you're screwing this week. Tell them it's on me. Now, move your damned foot before I break it like I broke your leg."

"Huh. I guess Manoso really _**is **_out of town." he sneered, making my eyes narrow further.

"Think very carefully before you answer this but what the fuck is that supposed to mean? Are you saying that I'm acting like a bitch towards you because I need my muff munched or a good hard fucking against a wall and you're just the man for the job? Are you saying I'm in denial? Is that what you're saying, Detective Morelli?"

The blush staining his cheeks gave me my answer.

"Jesus Christ, Stephanie! I didn't mean it like…"

His words were cut off in a startled yelp as the door narrowly missed his foot as I slammed the door shut hard.

"**Yes. You. Did.** Look, I'm not 16 and this ain't the Tasty Pastry, asshole! I'm not gonna be one of your Morelli sure thangs anymore and if you think that you can poach just because Carlos isn't around, buster brown, then you got another thing coming! I _**hated**_ being cheated on! It was the worst feeling ever! Why would you think for even a _**second**_ that I'd do something like that to Carlos,_** especially**_ while he's deployed? **Do you really think I'm that much of a slut?**"

"I never said you were a slut or that I even wanted to fuck you! Don't flatter yourself! I'm just trying to keep you from getting hurt! Manoso's eventually gonna get sick of you! He's had better tail before and he'll find better tail as soon as he's done milking you dry! He's nothing but a drug dealing, murdering, piece of…"

My vision turned scarlet and I swear I could hear that Quincy Jones piece from _**Kill Bill**_. You know, the one before Uma Thurman started beating on Vivica Fox like a bass drum? Before I could stop myself, I had the razor out of my hair, the door open, and my bunny slipper clad foot deep in Morelli's crotch, his venom lost in a scream. The Pino's dropped when he did and I looked down into his watery eyes as he wheezed and dry heaved on the floor.

"That's it, Morelli. No more games. You just crossed the final fucking line. You can say whatever the hell you want about me but you're not going to insult Carlos like that in my presence. Not without punishment. By the time I'm done with you, you'll wish that your shrew of a mother kept her diaphragm in and her legs shut when she had the chance."


	32. Chapter 32

**Author's Note: I always love it when I get to start a war between a character I love and a character I hate. Morelli won't die in this story, it'll be in_ Butterfly_ but that doesn't mean I can't cause him pain. Since it's the early books, I don't have to try and write him being in love with Steph in his own skewed way so what'll motivate him will be the mule kicks to the ego (and bunny slipper kicks to his precious Boys) and his championing of Burg tradition. As usual, her excuse of a mother will take SuperCop's side but not her dad. I love her dad and I love it when people write him as more than a passive figure head. **

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p><strong>Ranger's POV- 0630 (his time) Tuesday of Week 2<strong>

"Report."

"_Everything's status quo with the main accounts. We've got 2 outstanding skips but Santos and Hector are on them since they're part of his old crew. It should be handled by the end of the week."_

"Good. Stephanie?"

The booming laughter on the other end was a good sign, causing me to relax a fraction.

"Tank…Stephanie?" I reiterated, holding onto the 'oh shit' handle in the Jeep as we drove through mud and jungle.

"_She…she…okay, so you know about the Cop chasing her. Everyone does. Word around the gun locker is that the fucker hijacked her Pino's order on Friday and tried to be a very special delivery boy, if you know what I mean…"_

I _**do**_ know. And I am not amused.

"…_and they had words. Like serious words. Bomber called him out for trying to poach and wrung him to dry, saying that she'd never do you like that, especially when you're deployed. When he decided to get smart, she opened the door and sent his nuts into orbit. Then, she pretty much gave a declaration of war. According to Lula, she said something about him wishing that his mother kept her fucking legs shut when she had the chance…"_

That's my Babe…

"…_and…well, she's written a paper. Swine or Stallion- My Years with Joseph Morelli. 20 pages, single spaced, notarized. She laid it all out there, from the garage to the donut shop and even why she was so damned drawn to him in the first place…she even left copies of her log book on him with it."_

"It?"

"…_your crazy ass woman sent a bound copy of the paper and the book to everyone in the Burg. Even the Chief of Police got a copy and Morelli's back on blast. PD contacts are indicating at the very least demotion and Williams is already representing her in case the bastard tries to sue for libel or defamation. The fact that she hasn't lied and that her stories can be confirmed by everyone in the neighborhood will see it sinking faster than the **Titanic**, though."_

I absorbed that and finally joined Tank in laughing. Wow…just…wow. Every time I think I've got her figured out, she does something like this. And I'm proud of her. Not only is standing up for us, she's also standing up to the Burg Grapevine. Gossip has always been a part of her life, mainly negative and she once told me that she felt like the Burg's joke, their go-to for a scapegoat or a laugh. She told me that no one took her seriously, that all they did was dwell on her mistakes of the past and refuse to see the good she does now, especially with her bounty hunting. By doing what she did, she not only shifted the microscope to Morelli, she basically told those who belittled her to go fuck themselves and to take their vaunted Burg values with them.

That takes balls.

"Do you have a copy of it?"

"_Everyone does. Miami and Boston, too. It's a big hit. There's already a line for her if you fuck up. So don't."_

"I won't. Look, I gotta bounce so…tell her I'm okay…and that the mission's on schedule…and…and that I love her…and I'm proud of her for sticking it to the fuckers that be."

"_I will."_

_**/**_

**Stephanie's POV- 1630 (her time) Same Day of Week 2**

"…Damn, Stephanie. You…man, I ain't ever read something this raw."

"As much hell as this was gonna raise, I made sure to go into enough detail to not only make sure that I couldn't possibly be accused of lying but also to let people feel what I felt. Maybe they'll think twice before talking shit about me or somebody else."

"Mission fuckin' accomplished."

Lula looked completely solemn as she read through her copy of my "bestseller" and I continued watching the street below my apartment. I could see the black and blue covers everywhere, people absorbed in the material. My answering machine and cell voice mail were full to the brim, most of the messages surprisingly sympathetic. Of course, there were a few from a livid Morelli, which had been promptly re-recorded and sent to RangeMan's attorney and one particularly loving one from my mother. Although she hadn't accused me of lying (she knew better), she said that I had no business airing "our" dirty laundry like this and that she had been getting calls, asking what kind of mother she was to let something "so shameful" happen twice. She condemned me for going near Morelli in the first place and insisted that he had changed, that he wanted to make things up to me, that he loved me…

Morelli doesn't love me. _**Carlos**_ loves me. And he's proud of me. "Fuckers that be…" I love that. I'm gonna steal that from him…

"Are you gonna charge him for the shit he did?"

"Statue of limitations says I can't with the choo-choo or the Tasty Pastry but I can with the harassment. I'll leave it to the people to charge him with the rest."

"Like with those bitches who kill their babies but walk?"

"Exactly. I may not be able to get a guilty plea in legal court but Burg Court…he's up the river."

And it's _**my **_dirty laundry, _**my**_ pain. After Morelli had slunk/limped (slulimped?) away from my door, I had gotten on my laptop and just started typing why he had no right to try and be with me, why I didn't want him when all the other women in town were panting for his dick. I had let out everything I had shoved into Denial Land and took a good hard look at myself in the process. I typed and typed until I couldn't feel my fingertips, until I was crying like a kid getting a booster shot. And then I printed it all up.

At first, I was just going to keep it to myself, a good reminder of what happens when I try to be what the Burg wants. But, then…well, I got mad again. I thought about how everyone had called me a slut, a whore, and an idiot. I thought about how many had said I deserved what had happened to me, including my mother. I thought about the boys and "men" post Tasty Pastry, those who had "wanted some of my creamy center" and that "knew I'd give it up". I thought about how my mother had punished me severely and how my father had done nothing to stop her as usual. I thought about how St. Valerie and her snot nosed snooty friends used to whisper about me during their slumber parties. I thought about how I had to go to college and move over 3000 miles away to have a lick of self esteem again…

Next thing I knew, I was at Kinko's. And then the post office. I wrote down every address I could think of in the Burg and left the rest to the postman. I had put my return address on there boldly, throwing up the finger to all my doubts and fears. Even if people still didn't believe me, even if I became a social pariah, I was free. All the poison that had been rotting me from the inside out was out in the open, now. Not because of Gina Vinomelli or a crowd at Pino's or some busy-body behind their lace curtains but because of _**me**_. _**I**_ had put my business out in the street._** I**_ had put what I wanted to be known and left out what I didn't.

I had taken the power away from the Grapevine and I'll be damned if I give it back, now.

Once again, I saw Morelli's POS cop car drive slowly past and I tightened my grip on my .357, glaring down at him as he glared up at me. He was on Desk Duty again and Eddie was suddenly up for a promotion. He deserved it. Eddie busted his shit in the PD and had been passed over for Detective, just because Morelli had a military background and a "mob connection" with Terri Gillman. I don't know about the Mob but there were some balls to the wall connecting between him and the bottle blonde. But, not even that could save him this time.

Even if the Chief had tried to turn a blind eye, he wouldn't be able to, thanks to me and there was a growing public outcry for Morelli's badge. After all, what little trust the community had for the police wouldn't be able to stand up to the fact that there was a former molester and rapist on the squad. Statue of limitations couldn't stand up to bare facts…

The POS gunned down the street and I sighed, drawing the blinds shut after checking the window locks for the 5th time, my Spidey Sense going haywire.

Until Carlos comes home, I'm keeping my gun and a can of mace under my pillow.

Just in case.


	33. Chapter 33

**Author's Note: And the beat goes on. I hurt my dominant hand on my computer table a couple of days ago so I couldn't write. But now, the swelling's down (it was just a very nasty bruise/cut combo, no broken stuff) and my Muses are jazzed by an impending thunderstorm and the high of pay day. I'm glad you guys like the new plot I came up with and of course, we have not seen the last of SuperCop. Enjoy the update.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p><strong>Ranger's POV - 0930 (his time) Saturday of Week 2<strong>

"I take it the 'S' on that necklace is for Stephanie Plum?"

"Yes."

"It's funny. You always said before that your life didn't lend to relationships yet you can tell Sherman to pass on an 'I love you' as easily as you load a gun, now."

"People change."

Jeanne Ellen's cool grey eyes narrowed but she said nothing as I added another bushel of marijuana to the pile. The mission was in the jungles of Panama, a dismantle and destroy drug operation. Informants had gone to the authorities in exchange for immunity (and protection for their families) with a list of 15 sites. The majority of them were for cocaine but this one had been added to the list due to its immense size. 15 men had been arrested and 30 workers had been freed, many of them runaway teenage girls the cartel had taken in. Officially, I was here as a translator and part of the main disposal crew.

Unofficially, I was the go-to guy for "long distance eliminations", a sniper.

"You never changed before."

_You never changed for me. _ Contrary to popular belief, my association with Jeanne Ellen Burrows has been completely professional from Jump Street. Our handlers would occasionally pair us for missions and she had assisted at RangeMan in its infancy. Her methods were good for missions but certainly not for private security. She was always on the offensive and had no real idea of what working with others meant. She would go rogue in a heartbeat to get things done and would either cause unnecessary bloodshed or scare potential clients off.

After an Atlanta Distraction had gone embarrassingly FUBAR due to her pulling a gun on the skip (his friends had been nearby) and purposely starting a fire that sacrificed half of the quarter mil bond, Tank and Santos had terminated her on the spot. When she had tried to appeal to me, I backed them. When she had "subtly" propositioned me in exchange for her job 3 weeks afterwards, she had been gently but firmly escorted from the premises.

Actually, my eldest sister Gabriella had hauled her out of our parents' anniversary party by her blonde hair but compared to what I wanted to do to her, it was very gentle…

"I had no reason to before. I do now."

"I see. Well, I hope she understands exactly what she's signed up for. Bounty hunting isn't for the faint of heart." she said with a sneer playing at her lips.

As I've mentioned before, I'll not tolerate anyone putting my Babe down…

"She understands perfectly. She's the top researcher at HQ. She's the top BEA in the city. 100% capture rate and she can kick my ass. She can also kick Tank's ass, something I don't remember you accomplishing." I pointed out sharply, making her step back a couple of steps instinctively.

"You must be proud." Jeanne Ellen said after a long beat with an artificial smile.

"I am.", I replied with a genuine one, effectively ending the conversation.

The blonde's face went blank at that and she nodded curtly, withdrawing to the prep area. Once the last of the drugs are collected, they'll be burned, along with any parts of the camp that hadn't been destroyed during the raid. Then, we'd clean up, pack up, and move to the next area. In and out, a vacation compared to what I usually have to wrap my mind around…

My mind may be on the job but my heart is up in Jersey.

Hopefully, she's safe…

_**/**_

**Stephanie's POV- 1700 hours (her time) Same Day of Week 2**

"Stephanie, where is the necklace your Grandfather gave you?" my mother demanded in greeting, my father standing next to her in the front doorway.

"Carlos has it. I gave it to him before he went out of town for his job. He promised that he'd bring it and himself back intact." I replied with perfected flat calm.

I could feel her judgmental gaze on me as I got on the path, locking the Turbo behind me carefully. This time, I had come straight from the Fitness Center. I had on black basketball shorts with a silver stripe, a black tank top that left a sliver of my abs (my now 4 pack abs) exposed, and my art deco running shoes with black ankle socks. I took off my claimed RangeMan windbreaker and tied it around my waist, pleased to see sinew shifting under my arms with the motion. My hair was held back by a 80s-esque black and silver bow and my knuckles were still taped from my work on the heavy bag, the black tape making my "marvelous magenta" colored nails pop.

"You couldn't have changed before you showed up?" she sniped, making me roll my eyes. I know that even if I showed up in a one of a kind Couture gown, she'd complain…

"Leave her alone, Helen. She's taking good care of herself for her job and so she doesn't end up with heart problems down the road." my father scolded softly but firmly.

My mother bristled at that but he just looked at her with a very familiar blank face. Carlos looks at Vinnie and skips like that when they work a particularly sensitive nerve…

"She shouldn't be walking around like that!"

"Why not? She's covered up and comfortable. Not to mention that the only person she's interested in dolling herself up for's out of town."

"The neighbors…"

"…can go to hell. Anybody shallow enough to pass judgment on appearance alone isn't worth worrying about. Helen, leave her alone and go make sure that crazy old bat and her "guest" haven't decided to do something unholy on the table. I want to talk to our daughter."

"Frank…"

"**Now.**"

"Frank!"

"Helen, I will take Stephanie to Pino's and then you can explain to the neighbors in detail why you annoyed your husband enough to turn down his favorite roast beef if you don't move in the next 10 seconds. **I want to talk to our daughter.**" he repeated even softer but with a lot more heat, reminding me of Michael Corleone a bit. You know, the quieter he got, the more dangerous he got? Was that applying here?

I do and don't want to find out at the same time.

My mother gave us both a quick Burg glare and stormed back inside in a snit, making my dad smile in sweet satisfaction as the door slammed behind her.

**Holy. Fucking. Hell.** Where's my dad? This isn't my dad. My dad doesn't smile like that and he sure as hell doesn't stand up to my mom. This is not my dad. This is Pod Dad and I really should've brought my taser…

He snorted ruefully and sat on the stoop next to me.

"I'm not a Pod Dad, Pumpkin. I'm just…Luca Marizolli gave me a copy of your book when I took Big Blue in the other day…"

"It's not a book, dad."

"It read like a book. A sad and angry book, a rightfully sad and angry book. That book screamed that you felt and still feel all alone, like it's you against the Burg and the World, that you don't trust anyone to stay and take care of you because they always turn on you in the end… and that…that I let you down."

My heart broke at the sheer anguish in his eyes and I took his shaking hands.

"Daddy, _**no!**_ I…I didn't write it because of you! I wrote it because of Morelli!"

"The only reason that dumb fucking pig got near you in the first place is because I was too busy stuck in my own miserable head to protect my family like I should've! I let the damned Jungle and this damned neighborhood's 'respectability' break me down and now…now, my little girl had to put all of her pain out in the street just to feel better. Pumpkin…Stephanie, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being there when you needed me to be. I knew that your mother was blaming the wrong person but I didn't do anything to stop it either time. I knew in my gut that the Dick would hurt you but I didn't stick up for you. I walked you right down the fucking aisle like it was nothing. It…it was **_everything_**."

Tears were flowing out of my eyes like an overfilled faucet and I hugged him like Hobbes. What he was saying wasn't completely true. After all, I made those stupid ass decisions at the end of the day but…I always wondered why my father didn't help me. I always wondered if he agreed with my mother, that I was reckless, graceless, shameful…all the things she had said to me out of "love". I always wondered if he loved Val more than me, that the disappointment of me not being a boy had more far reaching effects than anyone thought. Now, I know why.

"Daddy, I don't blame you for anything. You did the best that you could.", I assured him firmly.

"I guess. But, I'm gonna do better now. I've let your mother and the Burg get away with shitting on you for years but not anymore. It's a new day, Stephanie, a new war that I'll gladly fight. You deserve the same amount of love and respect that your big sister has gotten for years and I'm gonna do my part to make sure you get it."

"Mom's gonna pickle her liver like pig's feet."

He rolled his eyes and I chuckled at the all too familiar gesture.

"She'll have to use the mouthwash because I poured out her 'secret' bottle of bourbon. I think the sauce is helping her be like she is. The old bat hid the wine, too. Sold your mother on some bullshit Daytime doc saying that it's only for cooking, not for drinking and that it's all the rage with her little friends. She might take a nip from that but I doubt it. She used the Burg against you but now, it's time to reverse the ambush and take down the enemy hard."


	34. Chapter 34

**Author's Note: You guys totally rock! Over 500 reviews! Hells, yeah! **

**I'm so very glad you all are enjoying the Slow but Sure Evolution of Frank Plum. There's a lot more to come from that corner and I look forward to getting even more to the real with our heroes and villains. One thing I enjoy about the Plum series is that there's so much context to play with. Sure, it's a screwball dark comedy but one with layers (like Shrek or an onion…) and I like peeling them back. Speaking of peeling, I already have the Babe Reunion Smexy goodness all planned out and I'll start bringing in Ranger's family soon. Enjoy the update.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p><strong>Stephanie's POV – 1130 (her time) Wednesday of Week 3<strong>

The precinct lobby went silent as the grave as I pushed not one but two skips in at the same time, whistling 'I Fought the Law and the Law Won' cheerfully.

Anthony and Mario Lucaressi, 30 year old twin terrors from Atlantic City. One was wanted for sticking up a gas station to pay off a casino debt, the other was wanted for counting cards and booking like Flo-Jo with his winnings. Anthony had a house at the Burg border and they had decided to hole up in Trenton until the fuss died down enough for them to go to NYC. If they had been smart, they would've just gone straight to NYC but they were arrogant and bold, thinking that no one in rinky-dink Trenton, NJ would have the skills and sack to take one of them down, much less both.

They weren't counting on me. I may not have a sack but I have to admit that I've got some viable skills, now.

Currently, they were both in a large rolling laundry bin and struggling like hellcats. I had gotten a tip that they were at the Wash 'n Wear, the large Laundromat near the fitness center. Since I had been nearby (mid Pilates, actually), I had calmly collected my things and went across the street. Mario had been right near the door, debating between Gain and Tide (Gain, all the way, baby!) and I had ever so politely jammed my taser into his jugular. Anthony had tried to rush me but my Nutcracker Knee and a wooden scrub brush to the temple had put the kibosh on that. The owner had recognized me and after having me sign his wife's copy of _Swine_, he happily provided me with some very thick rope and a crash course in hogtying. I had slapped some duct tape over their mouths and working together, we had put them in the bin. Mr. Jones (Gregory) said that as long as I brought his bin back (and told my friends about his place), I didn't have to share any of the 18,000 dollars I just earned.

Whatever. These two rocket surgeons are far from petite and if my 30 something self had trouble lifting them, then Mr. Jones' 70 years young self had trouble, too. He's getting some cash and a thank you card. Well, maybe a thank you muffin. I don't think Hallmark makes "Thanks for being a badass BEA with me" cards…

"_**Bombardera**_?"

"Hi, Hector. I caught the Lucaressis."

A soft smile lit up the former Heart's face and he nodded with pride, holding the door to Receiving open. Hector was the main tech guy at RangeMan, shyly silent but very competent. He was about 5'11 and was born in El Paso. His skin was a couple of shades lighter than Carlos and Lester's and his eyes were dark brown, near black. Next to his right eye were two teardrop tattoos, showing that he had his own darkness inside him.

If Carlos was a tiger and Tank a bear, then Hector was a panther. Dark, quiet, and deadly as a motherfucker. But, he was very gentle and patient with me, teaching me more about electronics and treating me like a little sister to protect. Case in point: he was staring at the Terrible Two like they were bird shit on a Ferrari and both of them visibly paled as he spoke with icy softness.

"You two do what _**Estefanía **_wants. She wants you both back in jail so you go back to jail without trouble or I kill you right now. _**Comprende?**_"

Judging by the widened eyes and frantic nodding, I say they definitely Comprende. Six officers came forward and plucked them out of the bin. I accepted their receipts and Hector accompanied me out of the precinct, pushing the bin downhill with me calmly. After Mr. Jones accepted his bin, he walked me back to the Turbo.

"You're not supposed to be in field without backup, _**angelita**_ (little angel)." he scolded gently, placing my gym duffel in the backseat.

"I know but Connie called me and told me that they were right across the street from me. I didn't want to wait in case they ran off."

"I get it but next time, you send a text or push one of your buttons to let RangeMan know. Boss Man would go _**loco**_ if something happened to you."

"Okay. You want a ride back to Haywood?"

Hector's reply was to get in the passenger's seat. After doing a standard check for anything weird, I joined him and made sure to buckle my seat belt before taking off at the exact speed limit. Morelli was off desk duty and had been busted down to traffic cop. Although his superiors and RangeMan's attorney had made it clear that it would be in his best interests to leave me alone, I know he's not going to forever.

My paper was spreading like a rash from the Burg to all parts of Trenton and up into Newark. 9 out of 10 people were taking my side in the matter and he was getting a lot of shit. Since I'm the one who busted open the cans of worms, he probably holds me responsible for his misery. His mother does and his Grandma Bella tried to do one of her damned curses on me when I was on the way inside the Bond's Office. In response, Lula had thoroughly cussed them out and told them that if they went near me again, she'd put her feet (which had been clad in spiky hot pink and silver boots) all the way up their asses. Connie just promised to call her dad (who had taken a liking to me, for some reason…) and the old bats had flown away fast.

Good friends are a gift from God.

A soft growl sounded and I turned to Hector who was staring at the driver of the next car. Speak or think of the Devil and he'll fly out of your ass. Morelli was trying to catch my eye but Hector moved with him, protecting me even now. His hand was on the hilt of a wicked looking knife and I knew that if Morelli ever tried something when Hector was around, they'd have to hose him into a pothole.

It was comforting in a frightening way.

The light changed and Morelli gunned it down the street, making me shake my head.

"_**Idiota**_…you're too good for him, _**angelita**_. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

I won't.


	35. Chapter 35

**Author's Note: All right, enough with this In the Wind shit. I want to write some more lemon for this story (I don't think we've had any since like chapter 9-10) and just some Babe goodness that means Ranger gets to come home intact now. The lemon will truly kick off next chapter and will probably last a while.**

**I'm so glad you guys liked my little scene with Hector and I hope to add some more Merry Men soon. I've got so many other ideas for this fic, I'm sure it's gonna match and pass _Unstoppable_'s length easily. Oh, and before anyone asks (or fondly nudges me…; D), an update for _Butterfly_ will be at hand soon. I've got some good ideas for that ditty too.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p><strong>Ranger's POV- O445 (Trenton time) Monday: Homecoming Day<strong>

I could see her through the window. She was in her showcows pajamas, fuzzy blue slippers (I wonder if Cookie Monster bit her before she shot him…) and her hair was going crazy in the wind, the hood of her claimed windbreaker refusing to stay up. Her eyes were heavily lidded and I could see her tonsils as she yawned, picking at her cuticles as she fidgeted impatiently next to Tank. She would say she looked like a hot mess…

She's fucking beautiful. She's fucking beautiful and mine and this plane needs to fucking stop moving and I need to get fucking dismissed so I can get to her!

"Is that her, _**Sombra**_ (shadow)? Your Stephanie?" Joker asked with a nod out the window.

"That's her.", I confirmed, pressing my hand to the glass unconsciously.

"She doesn't really look like a bounty hunter." Urso rumbled with no malice as he joined us.

"Believe me, she is. Sometimes crazy shit happens but she holds it down."

"Better her than Burrows. I can tell she's got some genuine warmth to her. She got a sister?" Ace asked with waggling brows as he looked her over. I swear, he and Santos were separated at birth…

"A married with 2 kids and no sense of fun or adventure sister. June Cleaver."

"Ew."

"Exactly and unless you want me to shoot you in the nuts, you need to stop looking at my Babe like that."

With that, the plane engines stopped and after another 42 seconds, one of the pilots opened the door. I picked up my duffel and with a last salute to my handler, I was heading down the stairs. Rapidly approaching squeaking was my only warning before she sprang and locked her limbs around me in a hug. I held onto her immediately and buried my face in her neck, feeling her shake and sob as she pressed kisses to whatever flesh she could reach. She cupped my face and laid a deep wet one on me, causing hoots and hollers to sound from my unit and Tank. After the need for air drove us apart, I set her on her feet, causing the slippers to let out a prolonged squeak.

"Hi, Babe."

"Let me look at you."

Setting down my duffel, I stood at parade rest and let her inspect me. Other than a couple of bumps and bruises, I was uninjured. I smelled like jungle and sweat but that could be easily fixed. An approving gleam entered her cerulean eyes as she took in my new haircut and the eight o' clock shadow that was on my face. She reached into my black under tank and I unclasped her necklace, gesturing for her to turn around. A visible shiver went through her as I pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck and soon, she was idly toying with the charm, looking up at me with curiosity.

"I put it on a longer, stronger chain. I didn't want it to fall off mid mission."

"I appreciate that. I appreciate you coming home intact even more."

"I promised you that I would."

"You did."

I pulled her back into my arms and squeezed her, giving Tank a nod of greeting.

"Welcome home, man."

"Thanks. Everything's status quo?"

"For now, anyway. Haywood or your place, Bomber?"

"It's up to Carlos."

"Her place." I answered promptly.

I need to be alone with her…

_**/**_

**Stephanie's POV- 0535 hours (same day)**

"I'll let you read my paper but only if you promise not to go after him."

"Babe."

"Carlos, I just got you back and I know that as soon as you get the real gritty details about me and Morelli, you'll go apeshit and justifiably so but…I don't want to visit you in prison. I don't want you to have to hide Morelli's body so you don't have to go to prison. I don't want him to ruin anything else in my life. He took my virginity, what little good standing I had in my neighborhood, and for the longest time, my self respect. He's not taking you, too."

For the longest time, I could only hear the shower running and his breathing. I was sitting on my sink in my bra and panties, my legs swinging slowly and just gorging myself on his presence. Being separated from Carlos for a month had been like walking around without a limb or without my daggers now. It just felt wrong. I felt much more vulnerable and achingly lonely, even when I was surrounded by my friends. Being separated for more than a year? For 25 to life? I don't think I'd make it…I _**know**_ I wouldn't make it.

As soon as we got to my place, I locked us in, drawing the blinds and curtains. I unplugged my landline and turned off my Droid. Since my place was now officially a part of RangeMan's network or safe houses/flats, Ella kept the place stocked with a balance of junk food and healthy stuff. Clothes and other things for Carlos were here, too, neatly combined with mine. I had used my growing nest egg to buy new, non back destroying furniture and a few area rugs in jewel tones. The Trip Line Buzzer in my bedroom window had met the RangeMan stamp of approval so now all of them had them and the guys kept me well stocked in weapons, as well as medical supplies and Rex? Rex was living in hamster luxury. My place wasn't just a crappy place to lay my head anymore. It was home. My home. _**Our**_ home. He was a crucial part of me and I just don't want to lose him…

His head emerged from behind the curtain and his dark chocolate eyes blazed with a blend of fierce protectiveness and tender affection as he shut off the water. He wrapped a towel around his waist and I let him stand between my legs, my head raised to look at him fully.

"I promise I won't go after him without provocation or for past sins. However, if he starts something now…I won't let him hurt you anymore, Stephanie. Not while I'm breathing."

"Will you kill him?"

"Not on purpose. Actually, from what I can piece together, death would be too merciful for him. He deserves to suffer for what he did to you and I'm fully capable of making him."

"Okay. And…it's not him I'm worried about. I can safely say that I don't give a flying fucking damn about him as more than a very distant acquaintance on a good day but I…"

"I know, Babe."

And he sealed that knowledge with a deep kiss.


	36. Chapter 36

**Author's Note: Good evening, all. I guess watching crime show reruns and mobster films are good for the Muses. I was watching _CSI: Miami_ at work earlier (Ryan/Natalia is my new obsess-ship…RaIn, I think it's called…) and I finally managed to see the middle part of _Goodfellas _without falling asleep. After I type up this update (the 3 chapters each system is back on), I'm gonna take a crack at a new fandom. Perhaps doing so will help my wandering, lazy muses with my dormant fics. Here's hoping. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in One for the Money (2012)

* * *

><p>Another thing I had done to distract myself (other than writing a local best selling tell all) was cooking lessons with Ella. I love Ella. She's a goddess among mortals and her cooking lessons were a far cry from the ones my mother had given me off and on. There was no lecturing, no pressure to get it right the first time ("Your husband won't accept excuses, young lady!"), no frustrated tears on my part and most of all, what we made together was edible. Some things were actually delicious. Plus, it was fun. Lots of laughter and bad dancing to girly pop and old school folks like Sergio Mendes…<p>

Anyway, my core dishes, dishes I know won't cause a mushroom cloud, are all breakfast related, which is awesome because I know Carlos has got to be ravenous. I saw a few documentaries on military life and some of the food they give our soldiers…man. I'm sure it's got a lot of nutritional value and all but…damn. Come on, Powers that Be! Give our military better food! They go out and keep our land the Land of the Free. Let 'em have something that's not freeze dried or in a can every once in a while. Just. Saying. Plus, breakfast in bed is an awesome 'welcome home/ thank god you're alive and with me again' present. So, I'm gonna make egg white pepper jack scrambled eggs with lots of vegetables, and I'm gonna slice up some the fresh fruit into a platter with bowls of Greek yogurt on the side. Healthy _**and **_tasty…but mostly healthy, right up Carlos' alley.

Nodding along to Ke$ha's anthem on addictive love in the background, I put some cheddar cubes, broccoli bits, almonds, and raisins in Rex's bowl. He ran out of his soup can like The Flash and I rolled my eyes as he happily chowed down. I guess his Hamster Daddy's gotten to him too. He'd still eat a cheese doodle or a Tastykake with no trouble but healthy foods were his favorite stuff now. It's okay, I guess. I read someplace that it's easier to stick to a new diet if you get the whole family involved, anyway.

I was chopping up some eggplant when first one, then two mocha latte arms wrapped around me from behind. I was clad only in my purple and silver zebra print bra and panties so I could feel his warmth easily. Carlos had pulled on a pair of black silk boxers and I tilted my head obligingly as he pressed a brief kiss to my pulse point.

"Hi.", I greeted softly, getting back to work. Food, then sex, Plum. Remember that. Food is fuel. Food provides fuel for sex and fuel for sex is awesome, especially if the sex is with Carlos…

"Hi. You're cooking?"

"Trying to. Don't worry, it'll be edible. Ella's been giving me lessons."

"I heard."

I turned the eggs on low and pulled out the yogurt, spooning some into two blue bowls and drizzling honey on top like they did on cooking shows. Strawberries, bananas, and kiwis were chopped and put on a small red platter, the platter joining the bowls on the tray. Carlos placed two mini bottles of orange juice on the tray and withdrew to the living room, turning on a good Spongebob rerun before stretching out like a Calvin Klein refugee.

I want to lick him. Just one good long lick from throat to…

I cleared my throat and turned off the eggs, serving up two portions on sunshine yellow plates. The Technicolor dishes had been an impulse buy at Target and unlike paying out the nose for shoes I'd only wear a few times, the dishes were endlessly practical and a surefire way to put a smile on my face. Picking up the tray, I joined him in the living room and we ate in companionable silence, a snort escaping me as Spongebob and Patrick fled from Hibernating Sandy. I don't blame her. If two idiots decided to wake me up during my blizzard nap time, I'd squish some skulls, too…

"That was really good, Steph." Carlos praised, stacking our dishes neatly on the coffee table.

I blushed at his approval and curled into his side like a content kitten.

"Cooking's really not as difficult as I made it out to be. Yeah, I still burn some things occasionally but I'm not a lost cause anymore. Plus, my food can't be intercepted if I make it myself."

"Good point." he conceded with a slight thickening of his accent. That only happened when he was pissed off but keeping a firm lid on it. _Swine_ had riveted his attention and I watched from my bedroom chair as he read. He hadn't said a word the whole time but his eyes had widened then narrowed in places. The part where I wrote about the aftermath of the Tasty Pastry had seen his face go blanker than blank. He had closed the paper and just looked at me. Although his face was placid, his eyes were not. Animal rage, deep sadness, protectiveness, possessiveness, love…lots and lots of love swam in the dark orbs and he had opened his arms silently. I entered them calmly and he nearly squeezed the life out of me, tenderly kissing my cheek before cupping my face intensely.

"_Never…fucking…again, Babe. He won't fucking hurt you like this again. Not while I'm breathing. I promise."_

And of course, I believe him. If Hector getting Morelli would get him hosed into a pothole, then Carlos getting ahold to him…the pieces would fit in an Altoids tin…if there were pieces to be had. I seriously doubt there would be…

A surprised gasp escaped me as he aggressively took my lips but I responded with gusto. Not only had our separation made me feel vulnerable and lonely, it had made me near unbearably horny. Morelli had been half right that night. I _**did**_ need my muff munched and I _**did**_ need a good hard fuck against a wall but I certainly didn't need it from him. Nope. Only Carlos. Any other man, my showerhead, even the best vibrator on the market wouldn't come close to satisfying me. I needed Carlos. I needed his hands, his lips, his scent, his warmth, his everything to get me where I wanted to be, safe and sated.

I pushed us back onto the larger and way more comfortable couch and my bra was off in a flash, his mouth on my nipples hungrily. My back arched like a bow and I put my fingers in his shorter hair. It wasn't enough to tie back anymore but there was still length to it, as well as loose waves. He groaned happily as my hormone driven hands shucked off his boxers and wrapped around his arousal. He was throbbing in my hand and I could feel droplets of pre-come dampen my finger tips as I stroked him. My panties were quickly discarded and I shivered as Carlos put me underneath him. I was burning up with need, my walls clenching and twisting demandingly as he kissed down my trembling body.

"…_want to taste you, Babe…want to lick you…let me_…"

Carlos growled as I wailed, his tongue feeling absolutely delicious on me. My toes curled and I moved my hips into his ministrations. Electricity was racing through my veins, my heart pounding in my ears. All I could concentrate on was Carlos, all of him, my world concentrated into each movement between my legs. I could feel his throbbing member against my flesh, rubbing against me until I felt as if I was going to combust.

His lips closed around my clit and I was there, gushing and screaming loudly as he lapped at me greedily, murmuring in hot honeyed Spanish. His accent was very thick now, a sign of his utter arousal and teetering control. I want to push him over the edge. I want him inside me where he belongs. I want to welcome him home in the most special way I could. I want him inside me…why isn't he getting inside…?

"_**Oooh…**_"

"…_love you…so fucking good…so hot…tight…missed you…missed this…shit, Stephanie…"_

"_Take me, Carlos…ah! Yes…yes, just like that…**ohh**…love…love you, too…"_


	37. Chapter 37

**Author's Note: Good afternoon, everybody. One, two punch for everybody. Now, that Ranger's home and safe, it's time to get back to routine. Morelli's dying very soon in _Butterfly_, not this one so this is going to be more like _Unstoppable_: emotional torment. Stephanie's paper isn't going away anytime soon and even though common sense says otherwise, Detective Voorhees just can't help himself. For this chapter, it's all about Steph and Ranger, warm, naked, and honest. Our favorite Cuban Sex God may be a tad OOC in this one but I think it's a good OOC. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in One for the Money (2012)

* * *

><p>"<em>I…I've never felt for anyone like I feel for you<em>…_"_

We were cocooned deep in my bedding, me on my stomach and his body on top of mine from the right. Carlos' face shared the space between my neck and shoulder, giving him perfect access to my ear. I concentrated on keeping my body still, my breathing deep and even.

"_There's always been a disconnect between me and the rest of the world, even my family. I really want you to meet my family, Babe. They already love you and I know you'll fit right in. But…yeah. I've always kept walls up and I never thought that I'd be able to let anyone in completely until I met you…_"

His words trailed off into kisses down my neck, my back, and up again, causing goosebumps and shivers in his wake. In response, Carlos turned us to the left, his arms holding me closer to warm me. I wasn't cold. I was moved. I didn't know that kissing him would cause all this. I didn't know that getting rid of Morelli and then pushing him to my bed that morning would unlock his heart…and mine too.

"_I love you so much it scares the shit out of me. I don't want to lose you. There are people in my past, my present even that would like nothing more to destroy me. Losing you would destroy me, whether to them or some other guy. I'm not saying that I doubt how you feel about me, Stephanie. I know how you feel…it's just stupid. I'm scared that you'll find another man, a worthy and normal man, and you'll leave me…"_

I would never do that. I couldn't. Leaving him would destroy me, losing him would destroy me. I need him. I meant what I said in the bathtub and at Morelli's that day. I meant what I said during my declaration of War. Ricardo Carlos Manoso is the only man for me. He gets me even when I don't even get myself. He encourages me to follow my dreams, to be strong. He protects me as best as he can and he treats me like I'm special and precious and everything that a girl always thinks about in her private times. He's not a white knight on a white steed and a sword (he's more like a black knight in a SUV with a 9mm automatic...) but he **_is_** my Prince Charming. No…no, he's my Shrek. My way more attractive Shrek. He's not perfect but he loves me with everything he's got, just like the fairy tale ogre and I'm his Fiona, apparently…

Carlos turned me and kissed me softly, gently. I responded slowly, wrapping a leg around his waist to put us flat, me underneath him. Our left hands entwined and the kiss deepened quickly, making my head start to spin pleasantly. He parted my legs gently and my eyes opened to half mast, meeting smoldering chocolate…

"Did...did you hear?"

I nodded mutely and a pink tint entered his cheeks.

"Hey, none of that…you don't have to be embarrassed about how you feel. I told you that I wanted to know, remember? And it's a two way street. I love you just as hard and I'm just as scared as you are."

"I'm not going anywhere, Stephanie. I don't want anyone else."

"I know. C'mere."

My eyes fluttered shut as he entered me again, completing me.


	38. Chapter 38

**Author's Note: And the beat goes on. I'm sorry for falling off a bit. I had to finish _Butterfly_ (and I'm glad you guys enjoyed it…) and now I'm fighting off a cold/stomach flu combo. My employer's granddaughter and my siblings who are mercifully back in school have already got pathogens and my weak immune system just screams, "Come on in!" Jeez. Anyway, it's time for another Dinner Time with the Plums scene with New Frank laying down the law, Morelli and a reeling Helen still in cahoots, and the arrival of a freshly divorced and heartbroken St. Valerie with her equally heartbroken and uprooted daughters. Fun. **

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>"No. Whatever else you got to say to Valerie or Stephanie, you can say it right here, Helen. I want to hear it. Although, I can already guess what's on your agenda. You want to tear Valerie apart for her sleaze ex-husband's actions. You want to say that it's her fault. That if she had just kept the house a little cleaner, if she had given it to him whenever she wanted, which you don't do with me, by the way, that if she had been a 'proper Burg girl' like you raised her to be then the fucker wouldn't have run off with all their money and the babysitter. Yes? Yes. And as usual, you want to push <em><strong>this<strong>_ piece of shit that you insist on bringing into_** my**_ house where_** I**_ pay the too damned high mortgage while you drink yourself into a stupor with your little friends off on Stephanie and you want to browbeat her and belittle her into your respectable mold, just like you've been allowed to for years. No, Helen. No, I understand _**exactly**_ what you want them to go in the kitchen for and neither one of them are going anywhere alone with you tonight. Sit down, Valerie."

Val's eyes threatened to fall out of her head but she immediately sat back down next to me. Angie and Mary Alice were quickly ushered upstairs by Grandma, leaving the table in its current state. Dad was at the head and visibly pissed off. I recognized the berserker rage look in his eyes from mine and he was holding his steak knife like he was going to throw it. Whether it was at my gaping mother next to him or at Morelli across from me and Carlos was anyone's guess. Morelli shifted uncomfortably as the berserker glare landed on him and took another forkful of eggplant parmesan, finally looking away from my T&A for the first time that evening.

I had picked a wine colored off the shoulder top, my black and silver plaid work skirt, and my boots for tonight's 'welcome home, Valerie' dinner. My .357 was holstered on my left leg and my taser was at the small of my back, red, silver and black lacy fingerless gloves emphasizing sparkly black nails. My necklace with Carlos' chain now rested prominently in my cleavage and had my hair up like I had during the Russian Roulette game. Even though he had visibly paled at the hairstyle, Morelli had spent the night blatantly ogling me, much to Carlos' deadly silent displeasure.

Carlos being Carlos had shown up in black but good casual black. A button down, jeans, and canvas sneakers. He topped it with a black leather bomber jacket and he had brought a nice bottle of burgundy, as well as a box of Cuban cigars for dad. His usual two guns and a knife combo and his hair being down gave him a rough and tumble, Antonio Banderas meets The Rock kinda look that I loved…and so did Val. The same shell shocked, ovaries exploded look crossed her face before the Burg politeness kicked in and he grasped her hand briefly, telling her in no uncertain terms that it would be okay. Val cleared her throat, whispered a quick 'thank you', and focused on her plate and the girls'.

Mary Alice had an obsession with horses, complete with galloping and neighing but she ate with utensils. Angie was taking solace in schoolwork and mile thick novels, tonight's being Sylvia Plath. I made a mental note to find her some happier stories or at least ones that make her laugh. **The Canterbury Tales **always cheer me up…"let fly a fart" and all that good stuff.

All 3 of the California refugees were clean, as were their (secondhand) clothes but there was a deep, wounded sadness to all three of them and my heart cried out to them. St. Valerie wasn't that saint like anymore and The Dick had thrown me into the pit she was in now. Doubts, what ifs, and worry swirled in the brain to make sleep near impossible and smiling thing of the past. I had pulled myself out by focusing on revenge but Val didn't even have that. Steve had bolted into the night, leaving the bank accounts empty and the house in foreclosure. Val was miserable and so were my nieces and all my mother could focus on was what the neighbors were going to say, "eligible bachelors" around the neighborhood, and getting Val a shitty job at the button factory, a job that would barely put ramen on the table, much less rent money…

"Frank, I'm simply…"

"I don't want to hear it, Helen. If you can't be supportive without being critical, then I don't want to hear it and I don't think anyone else does either. Princess, there's an opening for a janitor at the Cab Company. It pays twice the starting salary at the button factory and you'll be able to pick your girls up from school. Do you want the number?"

"Yes. Th-thank you, Daddy."

"A _**janitor?!**_ Frank, our daughter cannot be…"

"She needs to be able to put food on the table and at least pay for the hotel until she can find a place to live around here. As much as I would like to put them up here, we don't have the room with your mother already here and the last thing she needs is "advice" from you again. You told her last year to stay with that bum even when she started to suspect him and now, look what's happened. You're lucky he didn't give her one those STDs they're always talking about on the news. Be quiet. Morelli, your plate's done and so is what little welcome you've got here. Get out."

"But, Frank I baked a pineapple upside down cake and…"

"He can take his piece in tin foil and go. And this is the last time I'm feeding him. You may cook but it's my money that buys the groceries and I'm not gonna feed the swine that hurt our daughter anymore. And if you insist on feeding him, you can do it away from here. I don't want to see his face at my dinner table ever again, Helen. Ever."

Every time Dad cut her off, Mom's face would go red and then pale quick as lightning. Morelli's jaw clenched every time he spoke, the soft venom 20 times more effective than the loudest shout, and my eyes narrowed as his hand stole to where his gun (the department let him keep his gun) was holstered. If he even thinks of trying to put a bullet in my daddy, then Hector and Carlos won't tear him apart, I will. And he's not welcome here, anyway. If he doesn't want to hear honest opinions, then he's perfectly capable of leaving. Val stood and went into the kitchen silently, a clean knife in her hand. After a couple of minutes, she came back out with a generous slab of cake wrapped in foil. She placed it in front of Morelli and went to the front door, opening it.

With a grunt, Morelli got up and went to the door, glaring at Val like she was a roach. To her credit, she just grabbed his arm and gently pulled him onto the porch, closing the door behind him with a quiet snick.

"Thanks.", I said and she looked at me with slightly less glazed eyes.

"You've already got a nice man and the last thing I want is a Morelli. Why should he get to stay?"

And away she went to collect her daughters, leaving my mother in a severe snit.

"Stephanie, I think it's time that you and your…Carlos leave now. Your father has to take Valerie and the girls back to their hotel."

"Bring her some cake, Helen and you better not do anything to it."

"Frank, I don't know what's gotten into you lately but I…"

"Go get our daughter some cake, Helen. **Now.**"

"Frank!"

"I'm already sleeping in the Den. Do you want me to move out, too? That would be a riot to explain to the neighbors, don't you think? A man ran out of his own house by his overbearing harridan of a wife? Your respectability points would crash like Wall Street in the 80s."

My mother looked near tears but she hurried into the kitchen, banging the swinging door shut in her wake.

"Daddy, that was kinda harsh. I mean, I know you're trying to stick up for me and Val and all but…"

"I'm showing her the exact same of love and respect that she's shown you, Stephanie. Perhaps if she gets raked over the coals a few times, she'll realize that she should treat people the way she wants to be treated. I still love your mother but I don't love her attitude. Thanks for the cigars, son."

"You're welcome, Frank."

My mother shoved a Tupperware container of cake into my lap and Carlos gave her a look that would've turned her to stone if he could.

"Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Plum. Come on, Babe."

Yeesh...maybe eating with a pack of wolves would be more fun next time.


	39. Chapter 39

**Author's Note: Hi. In order to liven things up a bit after last chapter's grim resolve, I have decided to use this next batch of 6 (and maybe more) to bring in Ranger's family via an awesome family wedding weekend. It's also gonna serve as a bit of canon corrector. According to some of the stories I've read on here, in one of the books, Steph ended up at one of Morelli's kinsfolk's wedding and had a lousy, awkward time, which in my humble CMW2 opinion should've been a wake up call.**

**See, I'm of the opinion that a romantic relationship only involves two people and their chosen deities but if the family truly doesn't like you (especially immediate family members), then that's a scarlet red flag in the middle of a minefield for said romantic relationship. If I were Steph, I would've exited stage left before the bouquet toss and used that mentioned sex pot dress to lasso me a fine Cuban man. But that's just me. Okay, no. I know there's at least a dozen of you out there in the same boat. And now with the delicious image of our favorite Man of Mystery lassoed and at your mercy, here's a brief but hopefully humorous chapter 39. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>"What do you think?"<p>

"You look beautiful."

"You didn't even look, Carlos."

"Stephanie, I don't have to look. You always look beautiful."

"You're very sweet but I really need you to sign off on the dress since it's your family shindig I'm crashing and I don't wanna look like a slut or Joyce Barndhart. It would be a bad first impression."

"I told you that my family already likes you, Babe and you're not crashing. You were summoned just like me and Santos. And the last time I checked around town, Joyce Barndhart and slut were synonyms."

"Ooh. Grumpy catty Batman. Me-ow."

I grunted in response and she giggled, making me look up from my iPhone. My heart went into double time and my eyes were riveted on her as she modeled in front of the mirrors. The dress was a silky looking silvery gray and I could see sparkles catch the light on the material. It was simple, one shouldered, and shin length, hugging her torso before flaring out in a large flouncy hem. She cocked her head and moved the cleverly hidden slit aside, muttering logistics under her breath like a unit commander.

"…_**definitely**_ not bringing my gun to this… but I can't go unarmed…what if something goes down? Knuckles under my black gloves and taser in my purse…yeah, that'll work…can put my daggers in the holster…hair, maybe…nah, 'cause then I'd get mad if I had to shank someone and ruin my hair..."

I laughed and she rolled her eyes, before making them into the best cerulean Bambi look I've seen since childhood, not to mention the stuck out lower lip that I'd love to suck right now...

"This one?"

"If I said no, would you buy it anyway?"

"Yeah, because I really, really like it but I want you to like it, too."

"I _**do**_ like it. Get it."

"You're not just lying so we can leave, are you? Men do that."

"Yes, we do. I really like the dress, Babe. It brings out your eyes."

"And my ass." she deadpanned knowingly.

"Yep.", I confirmed with a wolfish grin.


	40. Chapter 40

**Author's Note: Howdy, guys. Sorry for the delay. My computer monitor decided to start dying so I had to switch it out with the living room one. Everything's copacetic, now. Okay, there's more pre-departure stuff in this one. I'm glad you all enjoyed the dress scene and the close relaxed banter between our heroes. I saw samples of it in _Sizzling Sixteen_ and I dug it so when I joined the fandom (and stalked some very lovely stories…), I decided to try and write like I would talk to my best friend. Well, if my best friend and I were non platonic. Unlike Steph and Ranger, there is absolutely no chemistry between me and him whatsoever. The idea's still solid, though. Enjoy the update.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>"You know I don't even know why we're bothering, man. Dude goes through wives like I go through rubbers…"<p>

Santos has a good point. Cousin Pedro is a decent man but flakier than dandruff with his affections. He's gone through 4 wives already and he just now turned 40. He has no children (that we know of) and he spends his time gallivanting around the world with a camera, his 3rd career choice in 10 years. He says he follows his heart in all things but there's a big difference between following one's heart and being stupid and frankly, I think he crossed that line when he decided to quit his CPA job go to clown college. His latest soul mate is a 26 year old woman called Calliope Diakos from Athens. They met during a photo shoot and it was "love at first sight" for the both of them, destiny written in the stars…

If it lasts more than the standard 2 years, I'll believe it.

"I'm not showing up for Pedro. I'm showing up so the_** familia**_ can finally meet Steph and I can get a moment's peace."

Babe's paper had made it deep into Newark and right into the hands of Carmen, the youngest older sister. Carmen had passed it to Talia who had shown it to Gabriela and Celia who had brought it to my mother who had immediately called me, demanding to know why I hadn't "used all the training I had to make the _**pendejo **_into bat food'. I had told her about my promise to Steph and she had swooned at the romance. The swooning had turned into another request for us to come to dinner and when I neatly dodged that, she had brought up the upcoming wedding, saying that she wanted her Wiggle Worm and his _**novia**_ to be there.

When my mother breaks out the Wiggle Worm, she means business.

"Moment's peace, my ass. You've passed all the calls over to me when I'm on the job, no less."

"Well, it's not like you actually _**do**_ your job…"

"Fuck you too, cuz."

I clicked off her Lock Shock and knocked firmly on her door, pleased to hear her pick up her weapon. There was a shadow at the bottom as she checked the keyhole and then she opened the door. She was in a mango colored mind sleeved pull over hoodie, black skinny jeans, and white flats, matching the banana clip she had wrestled her mane into.

"Hey, guys. Come on in."

I followed her back into her bedroom and frowned slightly. 2 large suitcases, a duffel bag, and her Satchel? The last one I get. Hell can break loose any and every where in this crazy ass job we do but why would anyone need more than a duffel bag for a weekend?

"One suitcase is causal stuff, the other's classy stuff including the dress that I'm about 80% sure you're gonna rip off of me…"

Add another 20% and she's right on the money.

"…and the duffel's my hair, shower, and makeup stuff." she clarified with a matter of fact nod.

"You need a whole duffel bag for that?"

"Carlos, it takes a lot of effort for me to look good."

"Babe."

"Don't you 'Babe' me, man! I'm a Jersey Girl meeting my man's family for the first time. I need all the mascara in the state…and maybe a shot of Jack."

Santos, showing tact for once, grabbed her things and went back downstairs, leaving us in a standoff.

"All you _**need**_ to do is show up and be yourself. Stephanie, why are you so worried? Do you not want to meet my family right now?"

"No, I do! Swear to God but…well, when I met The Dick's family, they hated me and Morelli's family hated me even before _**Swine **_and I know that they always say that the 3rd time's the charm but it's me and I'm…_**me**_ and me and families go together like water and Gremlins.", she finished sadly, scuffing at the floor with her left foot.

It was like the Bench all over again. Before she could even get a sniffle out, I folded her into my arms and felt her tremble. Once again, I'm thinking of just hunting down both the assholes that hurt her and killing them for the common good, not to mention the Almighty Burg. They made her feel inadequate, unnatural, unworthy, all the things she's not. I suppose I should be somewhat grateful. If they hadn't been like that, then Steph wouldn't be the strong woman she is now, not to mention that we would've never met but still…shit.

"Even by some miniscule chance my family hates you, I won't. I could never. I love you." I vowed to her, cupping her face to make sure I got her eyes.

"I know that. I know that you're different and hell, you haven't lied to me yet. Why would you start now? It's just…you gotta be patient with me, Carlos. Sometimes I get into a dark place and it's hard to come out."

"I get it."

"You always do. Can…I know we gotta go but can we just stay like this a little longer?"

As long as she wants.


	41. Chapter 41

**Author's Note: A couple of weeks ago, I did a one update a day system on a fic and it worked out swimmingly. I finished the fic. Now, I know I'm not gonna be finishing this one in a week but the one update a day thing starts now. A warm thank you to Margaret/Lucy Lu for the 'are you okay? / is the story forgotten, I hope it's not' PM and I hope you guys enjoy the upcoming chain of chapters. **

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>Stephanie was laughing hard, flinging water balloons in her wake as she ran towards the patio, Raph right on her heels. At the last moment, she tucked and rolled to the left, sending my brother through the thankfully open back door with a wet thud.<p>

"Your woman is evil, _**hermano**_. But I still like her." he groaned.

"_**Estefanía**_ isn't evil, Raphael. You simply need to be more aware of your surroundings and you need to get off of my floor. You look like roadkill." my mother Caroline replied serenely as she pressed tortillas.

Shaking my head in fond amusement, I went to the kitchen window and took in the scene. She was sitting on the ground with Kendra and Javier (Gabriela's 10 year old twins), refilling supersoakers and pistols gamely. Augustus, Elizabeth, and Octavian (Alexandria's 7 year triplets) were turning flips through the sprinklers under the watchful eye of Henrietta (their 14 year old sister). Callen Jr., Lauren, and Nadya (Maria's 16 year old twins and Celia's 15 year old) were working on their marching band set books and Lester…

Stephanie screamed as he dumped a bucket of ice water on her and she lurched to her feet, holding the hose like one of her guns. Santos' eyes widened and she grinned crazily as he started backing towards the gate...

"…_there are little kids here, Beautiful. They wouldn't want to see their favorite uncle get soaked, after all…_"

"_**Tio**__ Carlos is our favorite! Get him, Auntie Steph'nie_! _Take his head off!_" 5 year old Sonya (Raph's daughter) hollered with no mercy from the sandbox.

"She gets the blood lust from Kat." Raph said proudly as Stephanie chased the manly squealing moron out the gate, spraying all the while. "Back to the madness. When's dinner, mom?"

"Soon. Carlitos, could you take the roast out and pull it. Use the good tongs."

"_**Sí**_, mama."

Much of my childhood (that wasn't spent getting into trouble) was cooking in the kitchen with my mother. During those times, I could talk to her and she could talk to me. I always used to ask her about her day, what was on her mind. I figured that not many people did. She spent so much time caring for us, papa, and so many others in our neighborhood, she may have felt lost in the shuffle. I didn't want her to feel lost in the shuffle. I know how it feels to be lost in the shuffle and it sucks royally…

"I'm glad you found your Babe, sweetheart. She fits well with our family and more importantly, she feeds your heart. I haven't seen you this happy and light since before your teens. She's a good, strong girl."

"She is. She makes me…she makes a better person. Human, again."

"Ah. So, are there plans?"

"Nothing formal but we've both decided to stay together as long as the other will allow. As you know, she's been hurt before, not just by the _**pendejo**_ but from others, too. If she wants marriage, kids, or something like that, I'm game but it has to be her choice."

"If you keep up that attitude, you'll keep your Babe for life. I promise you that."

My mother has never broken a promise to me before.


	42. Chapter 42

**Author's Note: Hi. It's times like these that I remember why I don't do big FFN projects, anymore. I decided to do a one update a day thing and then one of my siblings decide to lay in my bed while they've got the damned plague and now,_ I'm_ sick. Figures. But, I figure that if I can drag myself out of bed long enough go to work, then I can pull something out of my hat/clogged skull for the update today. I just hope I don't end up with the flu because I've already had to miss days from work in the past 2 weeks and when I don't work, I don't get paid. At all. **

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>"<em>Your mother wants to know if you'll be coming over for dinner tonight.<em>"

"Why can't she ask me herself instead of making you her secretary, Gram?"

"_You know, that's a__** great**__ question. Helen, why can't you stop being a stubborn horse's patoot long enough to talk to your daughter…ohhh…well, that makes perfect sense if you live on Mars. She says that she doesn't want to talk you over the phone. She wants to see you._"

"Funny. She hasn't acted like it. I'm not coming to dinner. In fact, I'm out of town visiting Carlos' family and I won't be back until at least Monday afternoon. And to be honest, even after I come back to Trenton, I really don't want to see her. We have differing opinions on how I should live my life and I don't feel like arguing or feeling like I have to explain myself to her or the neighbors or whoever else she's been complaining about complaining about me when I don't. I'm more than willing to see you, daddy, and Val but I don't want to deal with her in the process"

"_Now, that makes perfect sense and I mean it. What do you kids say these days? Hump haters, get yours?_"

I laughed and replied, "Something like that. I'll call you and daddy soon, okay?"

"_All right, Stepphie. Have a good time with your man steak and I'll see you when you get back. Love you._"

"Love you too, Gram. Bye."

Hanging up my phone, I lay back in the bed, staring up at the dark green ceiling. Carlos' old room was very nice, at least twice the size of mine at my parent's house and very neat. Books organized by author, pictures and posters framed, the desk clear of clutter (with updated electronics…), trophies from sports, and a stack of well read and highlighted law books next to his old trunk near the attached bathroom. Inside was a lot of his military things, gear and medals mainly as well as a picture of him, Lester, Tank, and Bobby from back in the day. They were in what looked to be a clean dive bar and fresh off of a tour, weary but relieved to be home. Carlos looked to be the most worn out (shocker...) but his smile was genuine, making me want to keep the picture somewhere where I could see it all the time. His ESP was on point because he dug in the trunk and pulled out a wallet sized copy, giving it to me with that same smile…

"I didn't know it was nap time, Babe."

"The food coma has set in. Come lay down with me."

The bed shifted as he got comfortable and I placed my head right over his heart like usual.

"I like your family."

"My family likes you. Did you meet the bride and groom?"

"Groom, yes. Bride, no. She's still a little jet lagged. Did you see the photos from Fiji? Your cousin's got a lot of talent."

"He does and I think you'll like Calliope. She reminds me of you. Spirited, intelligent, beautiful…"

I blushed and squeezed him. It's always nice to hear that he likes my mind and my body. In the past, it was all about the latter and once that novelty wore off…yeah.

I thank God every day that Carlos is different.


	43. Chapter 43

**Author's Note: Well, I don't have the flu but I'm certainly contagious. Not only did I have to stay home (my boss is sick too but I don't want to make whatever's wrong with her worse...) but my mom's sick, now. She's holding up well and I think whatever's going on with me's starting to get out of me. At least that's the cheerful delusion I've come up to explain my current stomach woes. But, enough about all that. I'm glad you guys liked the last chapter (I was a little unsure of it but then again, I write best when I'm in an impaired state…) and I hope you guys enjoy this one, too.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>Calliope plopped down in the cushy armchair next to me with a groan, still looking fabulous in her exhausted excitement. She had on a white and gray Baby Phat tracksuit and gratefully kicked off her black flats with a yawn. Her black hair had unraveled (and curled in a very familiar crazy way) about her shoulders and her pale gray eyes looked at me with awed amusement.<p>

"This family is _**huge**_…and _**crazy**_…but in the really good way. I just got back from the dress fitting and there were people on Skype via tablets. Like 25 more women plus their husbands and their kids. I'm never gonna remember all the names." she declared in her musical voice.

"Me neither. Just remember that Pedro's your husband and you'll be a-OK."

"Mm. I'm not used to this. My family is very small. Just me and my parents and now, I've gained a score of family overnight. It's overwhelming."

"Scary?"

"A little but not in a way to make me get on the first thing smoking back to Greece. I love Pedro and like I said, the Manosos and Guzmans and Santoses are great people. Just numerous. How are _**you**_ holding up, Stephanie? I heard that this is your first time meeting everyone."

"It's good. Caroline and Ricardo Senior really like me and the kids have adopted me already. Apparently, anyone that can soak 'goofy _**Tio **_Lester' is a saint in their eyes."

She giggled and asked, "So, will there be another wedding soon? You and Carlos seem rather solid…"

"We are and we've talked about staying together for the long haul but nothing formal. Both of us are a little skittish at the whole 'M' word. We've both been married before and my ex-husband was a tool. He was 'respectable' around town but in private…not so much. He never hit me or anything but he made me feel like I couldn't do much of anything right. And then he cheated on me with the neighborhood slut."

"Bastard! I hope you ran him over with a car or something."

"No, I just ruined him professionally and financially. I ran another guy over with a car, though. Broke his leg in 3 places."

"Ah, the _**Pendejo**_."

I laughed merrily and asked, "Is that what he's called around here?"

"When we're feeling merciful. You should hear what Pedro said he wanted to do to him after he finished your book. Something about a chainsaw, a plow dragging entrails, and using his accounting skills to make him exist solely on cat food and whiskey for the rest of his miserable, waste of sperm life. At least I think that's what he said. I'm still learning Latin American Spanish but it's pretty similar to the one spoken in Spain..."

"Damn. Carlos just wanted to shoot him in the head."

"That works too."


	44. Chapter 44

**Author's Note: Good evening. I am very happy CMW2. Why? Not only did I manage to get back to work but one of my long standing ships just became part of canon yesterday. Annie and Auggie from _Covert Affairs_ (A-Squared, A/A or Augnie, whatever you prefer…) have finally taken the next step after 3 years and the season finale ended on a very high note with a very hot kiss fading to black. And we all know what _that_ means…hells yeah. So, going off of the fact that USA Network finally managed not to screw their fans over for once in a fucking blue moon, my Muses are on fire…and randy. Lucky y'all. Enjoy today's chapter and don't worry, this little slice of lemon is far from done.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>I need to find Carlos. STAT.<p>

I need to find Carlos, pin him to the nearest surface, and have my dirty, dirty way with him. Yesterday. Calliope's Hen Party was being held in the upper level of the studio she and Pedro share across town. The place is gorgeous and the ambiance on point, plenty of good food and drink and laughter and…male strippers. Talented, _**Magic Mike**_-esque strippers that no one in The Burg would dare have around for fear of the tongues a-wagging plus the lack of funds. But, as enjoyable as it is to watch them strut their stuff (and it's some good, good stuff…), my whole body and hormones are screaming for Carlos. I want his hands, his lips, his teeth, his dick, just all of him… and did I mention that I wanted it all yesterday?

I really am a shamelessly greedy little thing when it comes to him.

My text alert chimed and I pulled my Droid out of my pocket as I escaped to the balcony.

**~Going out of my mind… hard as fucking diamonds…need u and only u, Babe. Are u still at the studio?**

With shaking fingers, I replied: **~Yeah. In the same boat. Feel like I'm gonna come outta my skin…and my panties are ruined. The strippers are okay but I keep thinking about u and what we do 2together. Can you come get me? Come see me? I **_**need**_** 2 see u…**

Not ten seconds after I hit send, my phone sounded the Batman theme.

"Hello?"

"_I'll be there in 10. Meet me downstairs."_

"Okay."

"_Oh, and Stephanie?_"

"Hmm?"

"_Take your panties off. __**Now**__._"

And in true Ricardo Carlos Manoso style, he hung up the phone and made my ovaries explode without even the common courtesy of a goodbye. Bastard. Well, not really. If he were a bastard, he wouldn't be leaving the men folk to come see me and get the relief that he wanted from me and only me. He could have any woman at his feet with a snap of his fingers but he was focused on me. In love with _**me**_. Awesome…jeez, what am I supposed to be doing right now?

"…_take your panties off. __**Now.**__"_

Ducking behind a conveniently placed big pretty plant, I reached under my black pleated skirt and pulled my now sodden mint green and white polka dotted cheeky boyshorts down. I tucked them into my mini black purse and came out, just in time to see Celia peering at me with mischievous Cheshire eyes.

"You called Carlitos, didn't you?"

"Uh…no. I-I texted him. Well, _**he **_texted _**me**_ and we...um, he's coming to…he told me to take my panties off and even though I normally don't like it when guys order me around like a caveman, for some odd reason, when your brother does it, it's really, really okay and really sexy. And I just overshared, didn't I? Really freakishly loudly. Fuck tequila, it's mimosas that loosen my tongue and brain to mouth filters... who turned the music off? "

"I did." Calliope declared brightly between sips of mimosa n the open doorway. "Go on and ride your tiger, Steph. If Pedro wasn't such a traditional fuddy-duddy, I'd be all up on him right now but alas…well, I guess that'll make tomorrow night and the day after to the afternoon all the sweeter. Not that we need any help in that department…"

With a wild (and more than a little uncomfortable…) giggle, I made my way through the hooting ladies and resting strippers towards the spiral stairs. Getting to the bottom, I gulped as I saw Carlos leaning casually against a column, looking like hot mocha latte chocolate black silky sheets sex. His darkened gaze wandered over me leisurely and I could feel my nipples press against the cotton of my mint green boat necked top. I wasn't wearing a bra because it was built in and my bare feet (my Doc Martens had come off on arrival) pitter- pattered on the floor as I crossed right into his personal bubble.

"Hi.", I greeted in a shy, Mae West like tone.

A low purr was his response, making the hot tingles go up and down my spine and into my gut.

"I took 'em off. My panties. You asked me to and I did."

"Good girl."

"I'm glad you think so but it's getting kinda drafty, baby so if you could…warm me up…I'd really appreciate it. Unless you'd like me to do it all by myself." I teased with an impressive sex pot pout.

And not only did I pull the tiger's tail, I gave it a twist and a little nip, too.

"_Jesus__** Christ**__, Stephanie_!" he hissed before slinging me over his shoulder and hauling ass out the door.

And to think I never thought I'd hear that epithet in a positive way…


	45. Chapter 45

**Author's Note: 45 chapters and counting. This is great. I never knew that this impulse one-shot would blossom into something this big and awesome and I'm glad you guys are still enjoying my spin on Ranger and Steph. Well, I left off at a rather critical point between our dynamic duo and I have the day off today (for the holiday, not for my thank god it's almost over sick spiral) so…yeah. We're back in Ranger's head and things are gonna get hot and heavy in this section of 3. Enjoy today's chapter.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>"Are we going back to your parent's house?"<p>

"No."

"Good. We get loud and nasty in a really good way but I really don't want to think about people hearing us through the walls. Well, more me than you and that's okay. I like screaming for you honest just…privately. Not to mention that I'm sure Lester and Raph would hold up Olympic scorecards as soon as we came down for breakfast tomorrow. Them and Calliope. She's evil like that. Awesome but evil. She gave me mimosas and left me rant on about my sex soaked panties in front of your big sister. She's mean."

I laughed softly and continued driving, keeping a firm hand on her upper left thigh.

"We're not going to my parent's house. There are a couple flats up here in the network and I use one when I'm in town."

"Okay."

She was fidgeting a bit in her seat but her eyes were still looking at me with sultry sass. I know she's giving the blame (or in my point of view credit…) to the mimosas but I think it's all her. She's comfortable with me and growing more confident by the day, sometimes by the hour. With that confidence comes happiness and with happiness comes boldness. Said boldness can manifest in the workplace, the bedroom, or both. I like it. Not just because she wants sex more often but because she's happy. When she's happy, I'm happy.

Pulling through the gated entrance of the complex, I watched as she looked around with the doe-eyed curiosity I've grown to love. She always asks questions, always pursues the truth and unknowns even when it gets her into trouble. "Because that's the way it is" or its frequent companion "Because I said so" doesn't stop her for a hot minute. She wants to know why and how and how it can be made better. Some people wanted to stomp that out of her, to make her conform to their standards and status quos, to clip her wings…

I just want to be right out there with her.

I pulled the truck into the assigned space in the carport and she met me halfway in a kiss. It wasn't as harsh as our initial ones but still blistering, still demanding. Stephanie moaned as I pulled back slowly, cupping my cheek. Her eyes were cobalt but absolutely focused on me, making the heat deepen and sharpen in my groin. I need her…

"I need you, too. Let's go in."


	46. Chapter 46

**Author's Note: Although this chain of updates will end on Sunday (it's my new fic of the week method…see my profile for the details), this story is far from over. I've got ideas for more Morelli drama, more Helen and Plum Family drama (with a requested and happily granted non-Kloughn beau for Val on the table…), maybe some action of the non naked kind (I'm leaning towards a kidnap and rescue plot line…), and as always, a lot more of the committed lemony BABE goodness that we all enjoy and deserve. Thank you all again for your overwhelming support and I hope you guys enjoy today's chapter.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>As soon as I joined her in the bedroom, I was greeted by the sight of her sitting naked in the middle of the bed. She had taken her hair down and I could see it brushing against her raspberry nipples as she breathed deeply. A pink flush was on her creamy skin and I could see the lower muscles of her abdomen clench and shiver as she peered up at me guilelessly.<p>

Silently, I moved into her reach and her hands landed on me with tender urgency, bringing me to her possessively. I held still as she started to undress me, looking like she had gotten just the present she wanted. Reading her, I could see that she wanted control tonight and I am more than willing to give it to her. Most men wouldn't. They feel like it's emasculating to let their women drive, to let them pick and choose how and where they want to make love or fuck. They feel as if a woman has a place and should stay in it at all times…

Those men are idiots.

"…_so damn fine...too damned fine for my own good sometimes_…" she murmured breathlessly as she pressed kisses to my neck and chest.

I laughed into her mouth and let her manhandle me onto my back. She slid onto me fluidly and hissed with pained pleasure, her teeth sinking lightly into her lower lip. My hands spanned her hips and held her steady, patiently waiting for her to move. Her curls were wildly tangled and her inner walls were already starting to yield around me, showing her need. Stephanie groaned and began to move in our rhythm. My fingers stole to the throbbing, hardening bud between her legs and she cried out, a gush of wet heat making my eyes cross.

"_So good…never get enough of you…oh __**Christ**__, Carlos_…"

Her hands landed on my chest roughly and her nails dug in, her hips taking on a mind of their own. Cupping the back of her head, I pulled her into a rough kiss, surging up into her as hard and deep as I could.

A near unearthly wail escaped her as she came for me, all around me, on me…

My vision faded out as I followed her over the edge.


	47. Chapter 47

**Author's Note: And the beat goes on. Not only do I need to invest in a laptop, I need a humidifier because the dry air in my house has turned me into a nosebleed with a chain smoker's cough. Of course, there's always the benefit of the raspy, sexy voice but still…I like my blood where it is supposed to be, thank you very much. I'm glad you guys enjoyed last chapter and now, it's time for the beginning of the reception. Last of the update chain is tomorrow but the story's far from over yet.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>"Congratulations, man."<p>

"Thanks. I'm glad you could be here for this. I know and Lester are busy with the security company but…thank you."

"You're family, Pedro and Calliope's a good woman."

"A little too good for me, if I'm honest. I… this is it, Carlos. She's…it. With the others, I could easily see a future without them but not with 'Lope. I can't imagine being without her, even for a day, even if it's just like a text message or something. It's like you and Stephanie.", Pedro replied fondly.

At the mention of her name, my gaze went downstairs to the gaggle of women near the DJ booth. She had put silver and navy blue butterflies in her curly updo. Somehow, she had found silver fingerless lace gloves that went to her wrists and her nails were painted a sparkly blue that reminded me of her eyes. With the dress, and now bare feet, she looked like a modern version of an Earth deity. Gabriela slyly circled the faint love bite on her shoulder and she blushed before giving me a_** look**_, the look that was all too familiar from right before she tells me to shut up…

In response, I saluted her with a flute of champagne and she rolled her eyes with fond exasperation. If anyone should be complaining about lover wounds, it's me. Bite marks, nail marks, bruises on my shoulders, hips, ass…

I'm definitely not complaining. Any man who would is an idiot.


	48. Chapter 48

**Author's Note: Good evening, people. So, I got some good news on the finances front. My dad's job has a program that pays for extended child care and I qualify for it. Basically, if all goes well, I'm gonna have an extra 200 bucks a month for doing what I usually do with my siblings, namely feeding them and making sure they don't manage to kill each other while fighting the battle for _Regular Show_ vs. _Hannah Montana_ (the former wins every day…yea-uh!) so that's good. My employer is terminally ill, meaning that my job isn't set in stone and the second stream of income will make it easier for me to save up and add more fodder to my resume for if and when I enter the formal workforce.**

**Okay so story wise: we're back in Steph's head, the review count is getting close to 700 (which is EPIC!), this is a transition chapter into a new plot I've come up with, and while I'm going to be focusing on another fic starting tomorrow, I'm gonna do my best to make sure that the updates on this one are timely. Scout's honor.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>"You know, I'm kinda disappointed. I expected you to be taller."<p>

Looking up in the mirror, I could see a statuesque blonde looking at me with cool gray eyes. She stepped out from behind the dark purple wall separating the second row of stalls and I cocked my head. She was in all black, the shirt and pants looking as if they had been painted on. She was slender and pear shaped but still with a good rack. Solid black boots were on her feet and I could see the tell tales signs of two guns and a knife…

"Let me take a wild guess: Jeanne Ellen Burrows?"

"You've heard of me."

"Mm. The guys say that you're a good 'in the Wind' operative but a piss poor security specialist. They told me that you once cost them half of a quarter mil bond, you had a tendency to scare clients off, you weren't much of a team player and that you've got a not so hidden thing for Carlos. You have from day one."

"I'm glad the little boys in the club haven't forgotten about me."

Silence fell between us and to stave off my nerves, I continued reapplying my make up. Most of it had come off from dinner, dancing, and stealing kisses with Carlos near the back stairwell a few minutes before. I wasn't really annoyed with him over the whole hickey thing. Although I could've done without the teasing, I don't have any shame in anything we do together. What's ours is ours and it's good and special and right. To be ashamed would be stupid. Capping my cosmetics, I pivoted on my heels and looked her stone cold in the eye, visibly surprising her. I suppose I can't blame her. Although I've improved by leaps and bounds, compared to her, I'm a school girl playing secret agent and she's the blonde version of the fucking Black Widow. Do I really dare to look at her like she's the biggest pain in the ass since parallel parking?

I dare. I balls out dare.

"Are you here to try and intimidate me away from him, Jeanne? Or to fight me? Because even in this dress, I'm pretty sure I could do some damage to you before you knock me out…"

"You really think you can keep up with a man like Carlos? That he won't get bored with you after whatever novelties you have start to wear off?"

"I've been doing a pretty good job so far. In a little over 4 months, I've earned his respect professionally and personally. He's let me into his private spaces. As you can see, I've met his family and they like me. And Carlos has told me that he loves me multiple times without being naked and horny first. You've known him for almost a decade and you've never made that kind of headway with him, have you?"

The venom in the blonde's eyes said it all.

"I take my relationship with Carlos very seriously and I take it a day at a time. Am I worried that he'll find someone else and end things with me? Fuck yeah. It's happened to me before. A guy sees a better model or he gets what he wanted and poof! They're gone and I'm nothing but a big humiliated bundle of hurt. Ricardo Carlos Manoso the complete opposite of the type of guy I figured I'd end up with in all the best ways and I can't help but wonder when the expiration date is sometimes. However, I'm not gonna let those insecurities stop me from being with him for even a second. I love him. He says that he loves me and he hasn't lied to me before so…"

"It won't last. He doesn't do relationships." she snapped, her words soaked with envy.

"With you, apparently." I deadpanned with a brilliant smile.

"Listen, you…"

The sound of a gun safety clicking off made her eyes widen but I just smirked. The back of the neck radar never fails…

"I don't know how you got in here, Burrows but it's time for you to go now." Carlos informed her with lethal calm, coming from the other side of the dividing wall and stopping right at my side.

"I just wanted to meet your little girlfriend, Carlos. See the competition."

"There isn't any competition. Leave. Come near her again and you're dead."

The blonde shot me a look of pure disgust before she retreated, a hidden back door shutting with a slam. When I looked at him, the gun was gone from sight and I cocked out a hip.

"This is the ladies room, you sick nasty fuck." I teased with full on Jersey attitude.

He actually rolled his eyes and replied, "I know it's the ladies room, smartass. I was looking for you. Smearing war paint doesn't take 20 minutes, even for a Jersey girl."

"You'd be surprised."

"Babe, about Burrows…"

"Batman, I'm not surprised that you have a CatWoman in your past. As long as she stays in the past, I don't care. You think she got the hint?"

"I _**hope **_she got the hint."

"So, that's a no. Lovely."


	49. Chapter 49

**Author's Note:Good evening, everyone. Barring unforeseen occurrences, like a power outage or my computer monitor dying again, there will be a chain of updates from today to Sunday. I'm glad that interest in this story is still going strong and it's shaping up to be my longest fic posted so far easily.**

**I think my dad forgot about the whole child care thing (he's supposed to submit the paperwork to his head honchos to get the ball rolling…) but he's been taking a shitload of extra shifts lately so I'll forgive him. It's not like I'm unemployed in the first place, thank god. Other than that, it's been business as usual for me and hopefully the calm will stay for a while. Calm is awesome…**

**As for the story, Jeanne Ellen will be returning and I'm contemplating teaming her up with Morelli to try and raise some hell between our heroes. After all, the both of them feel entitled to Ranger and Stephanie, respectively (something that may even ring true in canon…) and I think it would be good fic fodder. I won't know until I draft it all out.**

**Anyway, it's back to business as usual for our heroes and I hope you enjoy today's chapter, which contains the CMW2 version of the now infamous garbage truck vs. car incident. Keep in mind that I've only read **_**Sizzling Sixteen**_** all the way through, now…**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>"I <em><strong>told<strong>_ you that letting me drive your Porsche was a bad idea! I told you that in front of 3 witnesses and God that it was a bad idea! You were wrong and I was totally frickin' right! Look at your damned car! Do you see what happens when you let the crazy bounty hunting woman you love drive your damned car?!" I greeted Carlos while doing a Vanna White towards the now burnt and flattened Turbo.

"Babe."

"_**Wow**_…it looks like a big black pancake!" Lester drawled while shaking his head in amused awe.

Actually, it was more like a flattened piece of chunky dog shit but beauty, or in this case utter and complete destruction, is in the eye of the beholder. **God. Fucking. Damnit.** I should've stayed in bed today. Honestly.

The only consolation I have right now (other than being alive and unburned, of course…) is that the asshole who threw the Molotov on roids looks like he has second degree burns and the garbage truck driver is getting thoroughly chewed out by a portly man in a very cheap suit.

Molotov on Roids Asshole's birth certificate name is Lawrence J. Heimler III, wanted for skipping bail after catching a case for burning up his cheating girlfriend's car and the front room of the guy she was getting it in with's house. His bond was in the upper limits of my niche but I figured I could handle it on my own. Huh. Shows how much I know.

Discounting all of this, I can't really blame the guy for wanting cheating slut/scum revenge. Heartbreak, humiliation, and rage can make people do things that they'd never imagine doing before. Hell, I'm batting 2 for 2 on that front but never, even at my angriest with Dickie and Morelli, did I involve an innocent bystander in my mayhem.

Okay, so I'm technically _**not**_ an innocent bystander. I'm the bounty hunter who wanted to put Larry's firebug self back in the hoosegow but the sentiment's still there…

"I think this is my fault." I sighed while fiddling with the strap of my satchel.

"Babe, you didn't tell Heimler to throw the Molotov at you."

"**_Ye-ah_** but I was tailing him and he noticed me so I did it wrong…and then the whole thing with the garbage truck afterwards and…shit, love. I'm so, so sorry about your car! I'll pay for it, I swear to God!"

He pulled my still shaking form against him and kissed me on my bruised brow.

"You'll do no such thing. I'm just glad you're okay. The scanner said that after you bailed out, an oncoming car launched it into the air."

"It was like something outta _**Terminator**_! I didn't even know a car could get that high in the air and it slammed into the truck like a missile and then the truck just decided it didn't want to live anymore and keeled over! It was like one of those falling goats, only with wheels and garbage and fire and…damn. Are you sure you don't want me to pay for it? I will totally pay for it if you want me to…"

"**Stephanie**_**.**_", he deadpanned warningly, making me raise my hands in surrender before burying my face in his chest.

"_Just checking… I need a drink. Is it noon yet?_"


	50. Chapter 50

**Author's Note: Good evening, everybody. 50 chapters, FTW! I can hardly believe it! And we are far from done here, folks. Where this Babe fic stops, nobody knows...including me! LOL!  
><strong>

** My little siblings are driving me bonkers. I know that it's all age appropriate behavior but the bickering and the ricocheting from wall to wall and the ever present mess that follows in their wake…at least I have the next 2 days off so I can fix the mess and enjoy the quiet while they torture their teachers. Good lord…**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>"I don't know if I can do this." she said as we got to the parking lot of her apartment building.<p>

"Val, it's just lunch and we're going to Pino's. You love Pino's almost as much as I do."

"I know but…this is the first time I've gone out other than to work and the girls' school since I got back. Everyone's gonna be staring and whispering about how weak and shameful I am for divorcing and how my husband got so bored that he traded me in for a better model and…jeez, I don't know how you put up with it all these years."

With a soft sigh, I turned and faced her head on, leaning back against the black company SUV Carlos insisted I use…

"I kept it all bottled up and shoved into Denial Land until I mustered up enough balls to face it head on. Take it from me, hiding from the Grapevine and the Gossip Leeches will just add fuel to the fire and make you miserable. You can't stop the gossip but you can control how you react to it. Val, what you've gone through is more than any of them could possibly understand. They've never had to work a day in their lives and they live fat off of their husband's pensions and paychecks. You had to move 3000 miles on a soup kitchen and cat food budget with two heartbroken girls because the man you loved shit on you with the babysitter that he brought into your house and bed. Most women would've rolled over and given up but not you. You're making it work from scratch and that takes more grace and dignity and strength than any of those cackling, criticizing hens and sheltered bitches have in their whole bodies. They can all suck it and if anyone tries to start anything with you, I'll shoot 'em in the face."

And in the ass too for good measure!

Val looked at me for a long beat and then burst into tears, nearly bowling me over in a hug. I caught her and squeezed her just as tightly, biting my lip so I wouldn't start crying, too. One of the many things that I've learned during my time with Carlos and the Merry Men is the importance of family and true loyalty. I have forced myself out of Denial Land and could see past my bruised ego to see that Val isn't a saint or the enemy. She's my sister. She's my big sister and she's digging herself out of a deep shitty pit of despair and she deserves to have at least one person in the world that's on her side.

Who better than me?


	51. Chapter 51

**Author's Note: Good evening, everybody. So, my siblings stayed home today but they actually cleaned the house so when I woke up at a quarter to ten (which is the equivalent of sleeping until 2PM with me…) with a still lingering migraine, I got to see a clean house and not a train wreck pig sty chicken coop. Although they're still driving me bonkers, today reminded me that they love me dearly and I love them too.**

**While we're on the subject of siblings, I'm glad you guys enjoyed what I did with Val and Steph and that'll become another recurring theme in this story. In other CMW2 news, I've been bitten hard by the Castle/Beckett bug (TNT shows daily marathons of the show and I absolutely **_**love **_**it…) so they'll probably be the subject of a fic in the near future. Keep on the lookout for it and enjoy today's chapter.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>"You cool with being here, man?"<p>

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because the fuckhead that wants your woman is directly involved with this bust and if you kill him, the paperwork will go through the roof again."

I snorted at the typically Tank statement and got out of the SUV, heading to the dark blue and rusting Honda accord. Cuffed outside that accord is Nathanial "Slick" Gonzales, a cocaine smuggler and trigger man on the run from the border patrol. He had shot it out with them during a stop and took off, leaving one man in the ground and another on a ventilator. The price on his head was 650 grand with 20% each going to the people who nab him. Morelli had been patrolling his beat when he noticed that the accord had expired tags with a sleeping occupant inside. When he ran the plate, it came back to a station wagon that had been compacted. He called for backup and then, I got a call from Eddie Gazarra. Morelli was currently sitting in the black and white, glaring as usual.

And as usual, I ignore him. I meant what I said to Steph that day. As long as he doesn't start anything now, I have no reason to interact with him or to snap his neck like spaghetti.

"Hey, Ranger. Tank."

"Eddie. This him?" I replied as Tank manhandled with a now fearful looking Gonzalez into the back of the truck. I don't blame him. It's just now 6AM and the call out interrupted him with Lula at her place. To her credit, she told him 'to get the fuck out there and get that little rat' and she'd be there waiting for him when he got back…with her legs spread.

When I get back to Haywood, I'll ask Ella to help me bleach my brain.

"Yep. Feds confirmed it."

"Excellent. I'll be sure that they know that TPD got the initial collar."

"Much obliged. How's Steph doing?"

"Good. She's sitting down with a couple of potential clients this afternoon and I think she's got plans with her friends to cheer her sister up tonight."

"God knows she needs it. That Steve shit eater did a real number on her and the girls. Hey, you think you could find him and take out the trash?"

"I offered but Steph promised that if I went after him, she'd cut me off…literally."

"Yeesh…better you than me, man…and better you than Morelli any day. Look, Ranger…um, I dunno if you've done it yet but you might wanna put a guy on him. I've spotted him with Helen when Frank's not home and even though he's got a girlfriend right now, I don't like how he looks at Steph when she comes around. It's like he's deciding whether to bend her over something or choke her out. I'm worried."

"And you should be. I'll handle it. Thanks for the Intel."

"She's family, man and so are you. No thanks needed."


	52. Chapter 52

**Author's Note: Good evening, everybody. I would've updated earlier today but **_**Criminal Minds**_** gave me such a swift, deep, absolutely fucking brutal heartbreaking kick in the Feels last night, I had to spend the majority of my off day looking up fix-it fics, pumping my favorite jams, and reading my comfort fic staples. I swear I haven't felt so TV pissed/ miserable since **_**In Plain Sight's**_** 3****rd**** Season Finale…**

**Thankfully, I've calmed down now (and bought some orange creamsicle ice cream that I'm not sharing and you can't make me…) so now, it's writing time. **

**I'm glad you guys liked what I did with Eddie last chapter and he'll be sticking around as a lookout for the Morelli/Helen/Jeanne Ellen unholy alliance (aka Terrible Trio) plot line I've settled on. I know it's been done before but I think I can put my own original CMW2 flare on it and even if I can't, I'll still enjoy writing it. Enjoy today's chapter.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>"Eddie called me earlier. He said that he didn't want to cause friction between me and you in case you didn't tell me about what you're gonna do about Morelli."<p>

"I won't let him hurt you again, Steph. I promised."

"And you're a man of your word. That's one of the things I love most about you."

She reached across the dashboard and I could see absolute trust in her cerulean orbs as she squeezed my hand.

"You do what you have to. I'd prefer if you didn't kill him but if that's what has to go down, then okay. I don't trust him, either and Eddie's not the only person who's noticed the way he looks at me sometimes. Lula once said that he had lusty mean eyes like a pimp and she'd know better than anyone."

"She would. Babe, I'm also gonna assign someone to stick by you when you're out in the field. It's not that I don't think you're capable of taking care of yourself but an extra set of eyes never hurts."

She sighed heavily and took another forkful of Ella's pasta primavera.

"Okay. I don't like it but I get it. Do I get input in the decision?"

"You do."

"I work well with just about anyone in the building but other than you, I trust and understand the Core Team the most. They get how I operate and I know that if they're telling me to simmer down, they're saying it because they actually care about me, not because they think I'm incapable."

"All right. I'll let them know and then we can establish a schedule."

"A schedule?"

"Steph, they love you and if there's not a schedule worked out during a briefing, then it'll be worked out on the mats."

"Seriously?"

"Serious as a live grenade."

"Don't you mean as a heart attack?"

"Same meaning, Babe."

"Jeez."


	53. Chapter 53

**Author's Note: Good evening, everyone. So, tomorrow morning, I'm hitting the thrift store with my big sister. I desperately need some more winter skirts but mainly, I'm going for workout gear. My mother offered me her rarely used gym membership key (not in a malicious way…) and since I was happier when I worked out regularly (weight training my senior year of high school), I'm going for it starting Monday morning.**

**At almost 6 feet tall, I'm a little over 220 pounds with a large frame, which isn't **_**horrible**_** but there's a hell of a lot of room for improvement and as long as I get to keep most of my curves, I'm all for trimming the excess me off my middle. Wish me well in my upcoming quest. Enjoy today's chapter.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>The bathroom door opened and she came out in a towel and a cloud of fragrant steam. While I could still smell the mangomint product she got from Bath and Body Works, the scent of my body wash was stronger. She had blushed when she unpacked it but it was so damned sexy to me. Steph was walking around smelling like me and she told me that it made her feel safe, like I was right there with her at all times.

Needless to say, she wasn't surprised nor had she complained when I tackled her to her bed for the rest of the morning.

Opening the top drawer, she pulled out a set of cotton underwear, white with pink and gray horizontal stripes and then pulled a dark gray Bon Jovi t-shirt from the 3rd drawer. She pulled out a pair of dark wash hip huggers from the 2nd drawer and from the 4th, a pair of my socks. There was a Wonder Woman cookie jar on the counter, a second "Hamster Mansion" in the office, and 1/3 of the closet had been taken over by her things, mostly an impressive collection of shoes. In response, I had a go pack in her closet, my preferred groceries in her fridge and the few products I used to stay presentable in her bathroom.

Not even with Rachel had it been so natural, so matter of fact that our possessions were mingling like our physical selves…

"What're you thinking about?"

"Us."

"Good things?"

"Very."

"_Awesome_.", she sighed happily before calmly dropping her towel and giving me a _**look.**_ To go with that look, she practically slithered onto the bed, plucking the copy of _**Nat Geo**_ out of my hands on her way to cup my face. A thumb ran over my lips before she captured them, her hands tugging down the boxers I had on eagerly. Small bolts of electricity went through me as her fingers expertly found my nipples and soon I was harder than granite, instinctively seeking her…

"I wanna ride you. Is that okay?" she asked against my mouth.

Fuck. _**Yes.**_

The grin on her face indicated that I had spoken aloud but I just moved the blankets aside, my hands steadying her as she got settled onto me. I rolled my hips up into her and she pushed me harder against the headboard, giving me a warning look. Before I could ask, all thought was wiped from my mind as she slowly, purposely clenched her inner walls.

"_Shit_…" I hissed through gritted teeth, her wicked laugh right in my ear…

_**/**_

"…_Carlos?_"

Gradually, my vision cleared and I saw a now fully clothed and very pleased Stephanie sitting at the foot of the bed. Topping her outfit was the Windbreaker and tonight's gloves were snow white with black stripes, matching the 2 inch heels she had on.

"Well, for once, **_Cosmo_** wasn't full of shit. I'll have to send a thank you note to the editor…"

"I love you. Not just because you literally fucked me senseless but…just everything. I fucking love you, Babe."

"And I love you, too, Soldier Boy. I gotta bounce. We're all meeting up at Mary Lou's before heading out."

"You dressed?"

She pointed to her uptwisted hair, indicating her daggers and showed the hilt of her taser in her right pocket.

"Good girl. Have a great time and call me if you need anything."

"Les, Bobby, and Tank are coming too so I think we're good with backup. I'll call just because."

I nodded and chuckled as she pressed a goodbye kiss to my ankle, staining it with raspberry red lipstick.


	54. Chapter 54

**Author's Note: Good afternoon, everyone. One thing about making plans with my big sister is that I have to keep in mind that she's an extrovert and I'm an introvert and sometimes things come up. Today was one of those occasions but we'll getting together for sure tomorrow morning and afternoon. And honestly, I'm not mad because I hate clothes shopping (especially for myself…) and my mother needed a babysitter for the kids while she and her bestie went shopping with her bridge card in preparation for the next cold snap.**

**Although the daily update chain will be ending tomorrow, this story is far from over and Val's non-Kloughn beau will be revealed here.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>"Bobby, this is my big sister Val Plum. Val, this is Dr. Bobby Brown. He's a friend of mine from work and he's gonna help keep the crazy shit to a minimum tonight."<p>

"H-hi." Val replied shyly, her eyes riveted on Bobby. Like I said before, even though he's got an ugly as sin counterpart, Bobby is very attractive. 6'0, 170-185 pounds of muscle, smooth skin that was a amber shade halfway between Hector and Tank, thick black hair in cornrows, big gray eyes, proportionate nose, pink lips, and a damned nice smile. Bonus, he's a roughneck sweetheart like the other RangeMen and a doctor that knows how to kick ass and take names when it matters. Overall, he's a solid 8 on my Scale of Sexy.

By the way Val is looking at him, especially since Steve looked more like a cross between Billy Crystal and Jim Carrey rather than someone like John Stamos, I'm thinking he's off the charts and into the stratosphere to her. She startled like a spooked deer and her cheeks flared pink when Bobby looked back at her and I bit back a giggle as he watched her retreat quickly back down the hall with more than a little interest.

While I inherited the crazy curls from dad, Val had gotten the docile blonde from mom and it was currently cut to her shoulders, carefully waved by the Clip n Curl. She had on a mid sleeved v-neck sweater that was the same shade as our last name, dark wash jeans with a beaded butterfly design the left leg, and the white nurse's shoes she had picked up at one of the thrift stores she had stocked up at. From the girls, she was a lot curvier than me but still trim in the middle, the weight sitting well on her 5'8 form.

Bobby has a thing for curves and for blondes.

And he likes kids.

Amazing what a girl can learn during a boring stakeout, eh?

"_That's_ your sister, Bombshell?" Bobby asked softly.

"Yep. She likes you." I pointed out bluntly, making him shift on his feet like a nervous teenager.

"Uh, I can tell but…isn't it a little soon?"

"Yeah but she could always use a new non-Burg friend. Friends can always become more."

"Ah."

He was looking in the dining room where Val was quietly talking to Angie and Mary Alice. Both of them were in pajamas and looked a little worried about their mom going out on the town. Mary Alice asked something that made Angie roll her eyes but Val just smiled gently and ruffled her hair, making the nerves drain from her face in a pink braces covered grin. She pressed a smacking smooch to Val's cheek and galloped towards the play room where Lenny was holding it down with the boys. Angie stepped forward and hugged her mother before leading her back to towards us.

"Aunt Steph will keep you safe. She's got a gun and if that doesn't work, she'll just run them over with a car like she did with the creepy cop.", the 9 year old said with a firm nod.

"How do you know about that?" we asked in unison, Val amused and me…less than amused.

"Grandma told me. Have a good time. I'll help Mr. Stankovic look after everyone."

"And you'll have fun too?"

"I…I'll try, Mommy. Bye, Auntie Steph. Bye, Uncle Carlos' Guy."

Bobby snorted and Val looked up at him with a shrug.

"Angie's my oldest girl and she's always been so serious, like she's got the weight of the world on her shoulders. The…the last few months haven't helped that much…"

"It'll get better." Bobby told her in the same gentle yet firm tone that Carlos used at the Family Dinner From Hell pt.2. And then he smiled at her for good measure.

Val just blushed in response.

This should be interesting.


	55. Chapter 55

**Author's Note: Good evening, everybody. Over 800 reviews! That's a first for me and it's just awesome! Thanks so much for all of them and keep them coming, y'all! Even though I write mainly to hold onto the remnants of sanity, knowing that my work is enjoyed fuels the Muses nicely.**

**Although the daily update chain is ending today, this fic is not. I'm glad you guys responded well to my choice of Merry Man beau and there will be some Val vs. Helen and the Burg drama in the wake of it, the beginnings of it starting in this chapter.**

**My big sister was called in to work at an unholy hour of the morning so the shopping trip was 86'd but I did find some decent enough clothing in the house before buying new socks and a huge reusable water bottle. I am ready to become a gym rat again and I'm actually looking forward to it. Thanks for the support this week and I'll be sure to update in a timelier manner, perhaps taking on two fics a week instead of just one. I'll have to figure that out as I go. Enjoy today's chapter!**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>Val's cell phone rang and she looked away from Bobby to the screen. Promptly, she paled and I peeked over at the screen. Ah. The Burg Grapevine never fails to deliver.<p>

Earlier, we spotted Morelli on the lower level with Jeanne Ellen Burrows (…_**seriously?**_), obviously looking around for our group. The look of annoyance on his face had been downright comical when a very tipsy Lula had given him a finger wave/ double one fingered salute combo before closing the black french doors of our VIP section. _**Flow**_ was another RangeMan client right across the bridge and a good 20 minutes from the Burg. As soon as the owner spotted the company SUVs, we had been ushered past the line and straight upstairs to an area that was more like an apartment than anything else. It even had its own bathroom and a door that led down to the kitchen for our privacy.

Although said privacy kept us away from an immediate confrontation (and knowing him and his companion, there's _**gonna**_ be a confrontation…), apparently the little jackass wasn't above siccing Helen Plum on us like a damned pitbull. Well, more Val than me. After what happened at Dinner, she cut off all direct contact with me, preferring to use my less than amused Dad and Gram as intermediaries…

"She'll keep calling until you answer." I informed her with Yoda like Zen.

"What do I say to her?", she fretted before knocking back another blue jello shot.

"Say what you really feel. It's not like she can kill you for it."

She absorbed that and her lips pursed as the ringing started up again without a 10 second interval.

"What if she says I can't come to the house anymore?"

I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

"Let her try. Dad and Gram will tear her face out if she tried to keep you and the girls away. Seriously, Val. Just answer it. I'm here."

And matter of factly, Bobby slid one of his hands into hers, making knowing smiles go to the rest of our faces. Lester had already been smacked upside the head twice for crooning about a 'love connection…' between them but neither has denied anything yet…

She looked visibly stronger and I could see her jaw set determinedly as she pressed the answer key.

"Hello… hi, mom…oh, the girls are fine…they're with Mary Lou's husband and kids…I'm out with Stephanie and her friends, mother but I suppose you already knew that…who told you that…Gina Marcello needs to mind her own business and to go pick up her husband from Stark Street… he's been cheating on her for years, even before I left for California…well, I'd rather be divorced than cheated on…what does the fact that Steve cheated on me have to do with you? It has absolutely _**nothing**_ to do with you…I don't care about what the neighbors or your friends are saying… oh really? Well, I'd like to see _**them**_ deal with seeing their husband porking the barely legal babysitter in their own bed that they just bought from the Sleep Number Store…oh, I'm sorry…I meant _**fucking**_ the barely legal babysitter in their own bed that they just bought from the Sleep Number Store!"

Excuse me while I fish my jaw out of cleavage…I've created a monster! Dr. Frankenstein better watch out…and is that a wolf grin I'm seeing on the good doctor's face?

"…and so what if I have been talking to someone…he is _**not**_ a thug, he's a nice doctor and he even served in the military…the closest Steve ever got to military service is going to the Star Spangled Delite three streets over from the old house on his lunch break…right now, Bobby and I are just friends but once I get my head on straight and if he's interested in more, then…there is absolutely nothing wrong with him or Ranger for that matter…you're just mad because neither one of them are from the Burg! Okay, so who do you suggest for me, then? I _**knew**_ you'd say him… mother, he's got a girlfriend now and even if he didn't, after all the hell he put Stephanie through, the only thing I'd want to do to Joseph Morelli would be to feed his penis to one of those goats Vinnie likes to violate all the time…if he's what's considered a good man is in the Burg, then I'm certainly gonna look elsewhere...well, we'll just have to agree to disagree then, mother…do you really think Daddy's gonna let you keep his oldest daughter and granddaughters out of his house that he paid for with his money just because you're angry? He may have before but I don't think he will now… that's not my problem either and if you're gonna be like this, I don't want you on my phone or my voicemail...I haven't lost my mind, mother. I've finally found it again and a backbone to go with it...good-bye, mother... _**Good-bye, Mother.**_"

Val calmly hung up the phone and thunderous applause filled the room, along with a few 'dog pound' whoops from Lou and Lester. In response, she matter of factly rested her head on Bobby's shoulder, letting him play with her hair gently.

All I can do right now is grin. Go, Val, go…


	56. Chapter 56

**Author's Note: Good evening. Okay, so Fic of the Week is still intact in theory but I'm working on execution. I should have it back up next week. The gym thing was killed by gallons of snow but I'll be resurrecting it as my state slowly thaws out. I finally got a laptop (with full access to my files and Netflix…) so as I watch the Babe scenes in the movie on loop, the Muses should cooperate.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p>Like I said before, into every kickass night a little rain must fall. Case in point, Morelli blocking the way out of the coat check area. Subtly, I sent a text to the guys and pulled out my taser, hidden by the coats as I approached.<p>

"Well, isn't this adorable? Sisters on the town…you know if you need a tour guide to get you back used to Jersey, Val…I'm always available."

Jesus, first Cupcake and now Tour Guide. Does he have a monopoly on making mundane words sound like the bad kind of dirty?

"Yeah, and then I can get gonorrhea. Go home, Morelli. You're drunk."

"Oh, so now you wanna get high and mighty like your fuckin' sister, huh? Last time I checked, Plum pussies weren't covered with diamonds!"

"And yet you keep sniffing around Stephanie even though she's thoroughly tangled up with Ranger and you're flirting with me even though you sauntered in with a supermodel. Go home, Morelli. You're drunk _**and**_ pathetic."

The nasty laugh he let out in reply sounded much too much like Ramirez for my tastes so when I made my move, I made sure to point the prongs of the taser right on the slope of his forehead. I'm not sure what it can do to a brain at this close of range but I'm definitely willing to find out.

"Is there a problem here, Officer Morelli?"

Ah, the calvary. Tank had his hand firmly in Lula's but she was trying to get at him, honest to God snarling as Morelli turned to face them. Tank and Lester's faces were completely neutral but Bobby…

"I asked you if there was a problem. Answer the question."

Okay, just to recap: Carlos is a tiger. Tank is a bear. Hector is a panther. Bobby is now officially a lion. I suppose if I'm anything, I'd be a hellcat…

"I just wanted to see how Val's doing, man. She's going through a rough time and…"

"…you wanted to figure out if she'd let you fuck the misery out of her. Given the fact that she just called you drunk and pathetic, I'd say that the answer is a very firm no.", Bobby cut through in the same deceptively calm tone, moving around Morelli to guide Val away from any potential bloodshed. Once she was safe, I removed the taser and shoved him out the doorway, watching as he struggled to keep himself upright with a nearby table.

"You need to leave. **Now.** Take Jeanne Ellen with you."

"She left like 20 minutes ago!"

"Then call a cab and if you go near my sister again, I'll stuff your balls up your nose. Les, could you please make sure he doesn't get in a car and kill anyone?"

"Yep."

"Lula?"

"Pierre's got me and Mary Lou. Go make sure she's cool and that fucker didn't touch her or somethin'. Baby, I wanna go home."

Tank pressed a tender kiss to her temple (Awww...) and led her towards the main part of the club, giving me a nod goodbye. Crisis averted for now, I made my way to the back row and my brows went up as I saw them hugging. It was a chaste hug, all four hands were visible, but it was tight and lingering. Val's cheeks were pink again…

"Do you two need a moment?"

"No."

"I'd like to leave now. I need to see my girls and I have the 9:15 shift at the Cab Company.", Val informed him softly, her eyes still focused squarely on his.

"I'll get you back safe, Valerie."

_ And I'll **keep** you safe..._

Well, I guess the hypothetical double date is now a hypothetical triple.

Nothing like Girl's Night Out, huh?


	57. Chapter 57

**Author's Note: *CMW2 shuffles sheepishly out of the woodwork, plugs in her laptop, and gives the football stadium full of patient readers a sheepish wave and smile hello* Good afternoon, everyone. Okay, as you've all probably figured out, I'm seriously into **_**Scandal **_**right now, both on FFN and Tumblr, and that's the reason why Fic of the Week and **_**Lock**_** has been on deep ice. I'll be discontinuing FotW for now (it'll probably be back up towards the dog days of summer) but this story is NOT abandoned nor forgotten. Thank you all for your patience and your PMs and I will pick up the slack soon. **

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd _**_you_**_ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __lock that shit up." _

-Ranger and Stephanie in One for the Money (2012)

* * *

><p>"So, Brown is dating your sister?"<p>

"Pseudo-dating. I don't think they've kissed or done anything like what we do but they're getting really close. She's had him over for dinner and the girls are really warming up to him. He comes to see her at the Cab Company when he's not patching us all up and she called me last night all a-twitter at the fact that he brought her a lunch. Like an old school, 'have fun storming the castle' brown paper bag lunch."

"Don't you mean have a good day at school?"

"Same meaning, Babe." she quipped in a passable imitation of my voice, adding another file to the stoplight green 'Done' tray.

After hours of negotiating (both clothed and not…), Steph had been convinced to take the old office turned storage closet and make it into her domain. She had set up a large cubicle in the left rear corner and the desk held a company computer and her personal laptop, as well as a shocking pink iHome port for her iPod. There were multicolored file cabinets lining the east wall and a large rolling whiteboard against the north, filled with notes and doodles drawn by herself and the men. The remaining space was taken up by a navy blue futon and a mini-fridge that was willingly contraband free 95% of the time.

The other 5% was during her Cycle and since I am far from a stupid man, I had decided let it go. If there's a choice between policy and keeping her .357 away from my dick, the former wins every damned day…not that I'll let the others know. I already get enough 'whipped' bullshit as it is.

"And how do you feel about it?"

"Anybody other than Steve is an upgrade. I never liked that guy. He reminded me too much of a used car salesman and he talked to Val like she was a fucking idiot. Bobby doesn't do that with her and you don't do that with me. That's good. And the girls like him and he cares about them, too. Most guys would see them as a burden but he doesn't. And…she seems to be happy. Like actually happy, not fake proper Burg girl happy."

"So, you approve."

"Yeah. Helen doesn't, though. She's been raking Val over the coals for it like she betrayed her or something like that."

"In her eyes, she probably has. She's used to you being different but not Val. Add the fact that Brown hates kissing ass and the interracial thing and…"

"…Mount St. Helens moves to the Burg. I get it. I told her to change her numbers, which she did but the Grapevine still gives her good Intel, not to mention that she has a tendency to be at the market when she is with her criticism or she calls it, 'common sense'."

"Babe, your mother gets on my fucking nerves."

"Mine too."


	58. Chapter 58

**Author's Note: It's been a really long time and for that I apologize. From new fandoms to family mayhem, the reasons why this fic was on ice for so long would be able to fill a chapter alone. **

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and lock that shit up." _

-Ranger and Stephanie in One for the Money (2012)

* * *

><p>"<em>So?"<em>

"_Nothing. Apparently, I've been put on their No Entry list and I can't get a moment alone with any of them. Brown's even started to date her sister…"_

"_Tell me something I **don't** know. Their mother's on my phone 24/7 ranting and crying about the injustice of it all. I didn't raise my girls to be like this, why did Stephanie have to ruin Valerie, too, you don't think they're…**sharing**…are you, Joseph…bullshit like that."_

"_It may not be bullshit after all. Ranger's a kinky bastard. I've heard stories…"_

"_**Stories**_, huh?"

"Babe."

"Hey, I understand. You just got back from Round 87 of saving the free world, surrounded by sweaty dirty men and a woman you don't want even though she'd put it on the table like a sandwich if you asked…"

A laugh got past my defenses and she did a little victory dance in the passenger's seat. When I am in the field, I am in the field. My entire being is focused on my task and it takes a lot to get me out of the Zone. Since Steph and I started tailing Morelli and Jeanne Ellen on the regular, we've ended up doing some extended stakeouts. Gas station food and fidgeting aside, she's proven to be very attentive, going so far as make another 'Golden Log Book of Truth' to keep track of the developing shitstorm.

**Fact: Helen Plum still thoroughly disapproves of my being in Stephanie's life.**

**Fact: Helen Plum also disapproves of Brown and Valerie's deepening relationship, prompting her to take the same attitude of distant politeness that Stephanie has.**

**Fact: Helen Plum is without support from her husband and mother, causing her to have to search elsewhere for it.**

Morelli, all too eager to undermine, has taken up her crusade against her daughters being able to make their own decisions (despite the both of them being very grown and rational…mostly) and is still determined to get Stephanie into his bed. I'm not sure about if he wants her in his life as a partner but I suppose that's irrelevant. What he wants is sex and to get one up on me and possibly the Burg as a whole. Babe's book is still floating around the area and only the truly desperate or depraved will give him the time of day.

I'm not sure which D that Jeanne Ellen falls under yet but I have to admit that I'm disappointed. Personal issues aside, Burrows is a fine operative and a decent woman. Why she's allowed herself to be drawn into an ill fated alliance with this _**pendejo **_is beyond me. She's better than this bullshit and I hope that she realizes it sooner rather than later…

"…_why are you so into Manoso, anyway? He's a loose cannon with a gun on a good day and a complete psychopath with a gun on a bad."_

"_To you, maybe. To me, he's the best man I've met and the fact that he can settle so easily for a bumbling, scrawny pseudo bounty hunter after all we've been through together…"_

"_He fucked you and left you?"_

"_No. He's…he's never given me more than the time of day outside of an assignment and even when we were on assignment…not even __**once!**__" _

"…I'm beginning to understand why. If she busted out that Exorcist meets Chucky angry voice around me, I'd head for the hills."

"She's just not my type, Babe."

"Tall, stacked blonde with a gun is not your type? Even before you met me?"

"Yes. Burrows and I have a lot in common but in the wrong ways. You say that I'm in the Zone when I'm in the field and I am but I know how to come out of it. She doesn't."

"You wanted someone that you could be Carlos with, not just Ranger."

"Exactly. With you, I can be both and not feel uncomfortable about it."

"…_what about you and Plum? I've read her little book and if she's not lying, then you really shouldn't want anything else to do with her..."_

"Thank you!" Steph said with an 'Obivously' gesture with her hands.

"If he says you lied…"

"We have to maintain our cover, Carlos. Remember?"

"I remember but he better not say you lied."

"…_it's complicated."_

"_**Did** she lie?"_

"_Well…not really. I mean, the garage and the Tasty Pastry happened but it was just kid stuff. All kids do shit like that and it's not like she said no in the shop."_

"_The book says that she didn't but that doesn't mean that she wanted it. She probably just went along with it so you'd leave her alone and then when you did the graffiti thing…you're fortunate that it wasn't me because if it had been, I would've broken more than your leg with that car. So, what? You're looking to make amends?"_

"_Look, you and I both know that she and Manoso aren't gonna last. Cupcake isn't one for commitment. I mean, if she was then she'd still be married to that Orr guy…"_

"Oh _**yeah**_, Joe…I'd still be married and I'd have STD known to man, animals, and Vinnie!"

"Babe."

"Vinnie doesn't count as a human or an animal and you know it!"

"…_and a tight cunt can only hold a man's attention for so long. He'll get bored or he'll realize that she's a lot more trouble than she's worth and then where would she be?"_

"_So, you're trying to protect her and get laid at the same time. How noble of you…"_

"Noble, my ass." she grumbled while cutting off the listening equipment, having heard enough.

I had to. Once their conversation started to take a turn for the carnal, I took the opportunity to pull out of the parking space and towards the garage exit.

"I'm not like that."

"I know that, Carlos. If I thought for a second you were like that, I wouldn't have let you touch me after the first time. I've already dealt with 2 assholes breaking my heart and taking my sanity. I wasn't going for a set of 3."

"But you still would've pushed me to your bed the first time?"

"Uh, yeah. You're hot."

"I am."

"Jerk."

"Babe."


	59. Chapter 59

**Author's Note: Good afternoon. Heat stroke sucks. The recovery time and lingering side effects suck worse. Fueled by medicine, Powerade, and whole lot of water, I'm gonna do some updating on this fic and my SCANDAL ones. And maybe one of my Star Trek ones, too. It's just one of them days. **

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd _**_you_**_ get in?"_

"_**Picked the lock**…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and **lock that shit up**." _

-Ranger and Stephanie in One for the Money (2012)

* * *

><p>"<em>What's this one?"<em>

"_It's a Clydesdale. It's named after the old name for Lanakshire in Scotland and…"_

"He's so patient with her. Steve never took the time to really talk with the kids. It was always me…"

"Brown comes from a big family. He's the youngest of 8 so he's used to kids. He knows how they think and that really, they just want someone to listen."

Valerie looked at me, back towards the two of them, and then nodded in solemn agreement. Steph's never really gone in depth on her previous relationship with her older sister but I know that it's at least fifty times better than before. My theory is that their personality differences plus Helen Plum's incessant harping caused the Rift in the first place. While my parents never elevated one child above the other, I can just hear: "Why can't you be more like Valerie, Stephanie? She doesn't…" and then a laundry list of perceived faults. With Frank Plum's silence taken as agreement and Valerie's drive to please, Babe felt like she was inadequate and since she had been unable to stand up to Helen at the time, Valerie got the brunt of the resentment.

On the other hand, Valerie was jealous of Steph's ability to be herself. Even when the Burg and their mother turned their noses up at her, she refused to compromise her core values and personality. She was determined to Fly and forge her own path, something that Valerie had been too afraid to do until recent events…

"Gram and Dad are joining us tonight. They want to officially meet Bobby."

"Will your mother…"

"I hope not. Don't get me wrong, I'm always gonna love her because she's my mother but…nowadays, she's just so _**mean**_. Or maybe I just haven't noticed the mean before. She doesn't seem to be happy unless people are doing what she thinks is acceptable and she gives her opinion on things she really oughtn't to like you and Steph or me and Bobby or my job or…just everything. I don't know how Steph did it for all this time and it's just none of her damned _**business!**_"

A startled squeak escaped her as the glass in her hand shattered and Brown immediately came over. Mary Alice galloped to a cabinet in the far corner of the living room and passed the first aid kit to Angie who put it on the counter separating the rooms.

"Careful, Angie. There's glass." Brown advised while carefully tweezing and disinfecting her injury.

"Mommy?" Mary Alice asked with big worried blue eyes.

"I'm all right, baby…_ow_…"

"I'm sorry. Rangeman, can you get the glass up?"

"Yeah. Val, where's the broom?"

"Here. ", Steph said while placing the dustpan down.

As I got the glass up, I couldn't look away from them. Brown has been known as the Heart of RangeMan. I'm not saying that he's too soft to get shit done when it needs to be but he's always been warmer than the rest of us, gentler. He was introverted and pretty much a homebody, preferring a thick novel over raising hell at a club. And even when we were overseas, he had never attached himself to a woman, not even for a fling.

The way he was looking at Valerie was anything but a fling.

"What happened?"

"We were talking about Mother and I got angry."

"Oh. Is she coming tonight?"

"I hope not. I made it clear that she wasn't welcome if she wasn't going to be civil but she is how she is. I'm okay, now."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Scram, Doc."

He pressed a light kiss to her lips and retreated, chucking his latex gloves (he always carried gloves with him) in the garbage. Valerie smiled to herself as Mary Alice continued showing him her latest horse book and giggled as Steph waggled her brows playfully.

"Shut up, Stepphie."

"Nope. You're blushing. You're giggling. You're being _**improper**_, Valerie..."

"There is lasagna in the oven that'll go over your head if you don't quit."

"Okay, you can put hot noodles over my head and then I'll shoot you."

"Aw, that's not fair…using the Bounty Hunter Ninja Card."

"You're the one who busted out the Food Fight June Cleaver Card."

With an amused shake of my head, I decided to leave them to their banter.

I grew up knowing the importance of family and enjoying the support of them, regardless of my choices, some of them admittedly very, very stupid.

It was nice to see Steph finally discovering and enjoying the same.


	60. Chapter 60

**Author's Note: Wow, I can't believe that it's August already. This year's going by at warp speed and I'm only half okay with it. Well, three-quarters. I mean, after all, all my good TV shows come back on in the Fall. I need to get out more.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock__…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __lock that shit up__." _

-Ranger and Stephanie in One for the Money (2012)

* * *

><p>I don't know what's funnier: the apologetic look on my dad's face, the amused disgust on Gram's, or the obviously fake and strained smile on my mother's face. Well, at least she brought pineapple upside down cake. It may very well have a diuretic in it but…still, cake is good.<p>

Val's face went carefully blank and she stepped into the foyer with me, looking straight at Mom. Dad and Grandma went past us and entered the kitchen, the sounds of the girls embracing them loud and warm.

"You weren't invited. Why are you here?"

"Valerie, I want to spend time with my granddaughters. Is that a crime?"

"It's not but I know that's not why you're here. Not the only reason. Let me guess, one of your 'friends' started asking about me and once you admitted that we weren't very close anymore, they got on you like they did when Steph's paper came out, only it was like a million times worse because I've always been your so called golden child. The Burg Grapevine's finally starting to ask what _**you're**_ doing wrong and lord knows we can't have that, now can we?"

Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes.

"Valerie, I would _**never**_…"

"Save it. Don't start anything or I swear to God that you won't see me or my girls until they graduate from high school. Thanks for the cake."

And away she went with the cake, leaving me with my mother in person for the first time since before Pedro's wedding. Mom looked pretty much the same as she did before. There was more silver in her hair and I'm sure that the bloodshot tinge in her eyes wasn't just from lack of sleep.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you? Seeing the family so turned against me?"

"I'd be lying if I said no. You're being treated the way you've treated me for years."

"All I wanted was to…"

"…make me into you. You made me feel that any other option was unacceptable and treated me like something the dog dragged in every time I dared to be different, every time someone hurt me. You were supposed to love and accept me as I am. You never did. And now, you're trying to do the same to Val. I won't let you. She's happy and no one gets to ruin that, especially you."

"What are you saying? That you'll have one of your thugs shoot me if I 'step out of line'?"

"No. I'll do it myself. They'd just make sure that you would never be able to be found."

"_You_…you can't mean that. I am your _**mother**_."

I just looked at her. Of course I'd never shoot her. She is my mother, after all and there just some lines you do not cross. I am serious about protecting Val, though. And the girls, for that matter. Mary Alice's love of horses was deep and potent to the point of obsession. Angie was an absolute scholar and had an animal obsession of her own going on via insects. She wants to be a forensic entomologist. Both of them are polar opposite in their ways but good girls, fiery and fun loving in their own ways. If Mom gets to them, if the Burg gets to them…

"_Dinner, everyone! Come on!_"

_**/**_

"You're taking another job? What about your girls? Don't you think they'll need you?"

"Of course I do. That's why it's part time and only 3 days a week during school hours. Now, that I've finally gotten the bills paid down, I'd like to keep them that way. Plus, thanks to Steve, I have to start their college funds from scratch."

After a tense dinner, Gram had asked the girls to show them what they're working on at school so they were in the living room while we remained at the table. Bobby and dad had immediately clicked. At first I thought it was because of the military but that quickly left out of my mind. The Dick had been in the reserves and Morelli a full blown albeit brief Marine and Daddy had hated them both. No. I think it's the RangeMan thing. Since Ranger and I had gotten together, RangeMan had gone from a band of scary ex-military in a fortress to approachable, semi-respectable, scary ex-military in a fortress to the community. Even the busiest busybodies in the Burg (sans my mother and the Morelli women) were more inclined to say something nice about them. A few of the braver ones have even asked if some are single since their daughter/granddaughter/niece is looking for a man…

Anyway, Dad liked Bobby. Gram adored Bobby and had managed to get a good grope in before anyone could stop her. To his credit, he only blushed, gave her a small smile, and then found ways to keep Val between him and her. Smart man…patient man.

Even under the implied threat of a bullet, Mom had been the interrogator, asking every and anything that entered her head. As time went on, Carlos had started to bristle but a quick shake of the head from Bobby kept him in check, as did my hand on his thigh. Carlos was a protective tiger, especially towards his RangePeople, and since he cannot stand my mother, there would've been blood on the wall.

"Do you have a problem with her working, Mr. Brown?"

"It's Dr. Brown, ma'am. And no, I don't. My mother worked a job to support the family for as long as I can remember and she never missed anything we were in. She was always around when we needed her."

"But, the girls are so fragile nowadays. They were uprooted from their homes…"

"…because of the selfishness and cruelty of their father."

"But, don't you think she could've made it work in California?"

"Of course. Your daughter is very strong. However, sometimes, a person just needs a fresh start and to be close to the loved ones that unconditionally love them. Valerie was brave enough to admit that she needed to leave and your granddaughters are happier because of it."

The ever so slight emphasis on 'unconditionally' wasn't lost on anyone and my father let a smirk curve his lips as he turned to hear her rebuttal.

All she could do was down the rest of her wine.


	61. Chapter 61

**Author's Note: Few things feel worse when one is too tired to sleep and one is on the rag at the same time. I don't know whether I'm gonna cry, yell, or stick a knife through someone's eye socket at any given moment. In order to take my mind off this growing dilemma, I shall write.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd _**_you_**_ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and lock that shit up." _

-Ranger and Stephanie in One for the Money (2012)

* * *

><p>Jeanne Ellen Burrows now worked with Les Sebring. True Blue Bonds was the largest bail bonds business in Trenton and lightyears ahead of Vinnie's. And the go-to precinct for bounty hunting business was the one smack dab in the middle of the Burg, a Burg who was near famished for the latest scoop coming from the Plum Sisters. The Dinner with Bobby had been the hottest subject for weeks, especially with the growing rift between Val and Mom, but now…<p>

"I'm gonna level with you. There's this bitch that does what I do and she wants my man who would rather shoot off his junk than touch her. In response, she's started to date this guy that wants me but I wouldn't touch even if we were the last two people on Earth. And the guy's a cop out of here. Anyway, when I take you in, I wanna get in and get out as fast as possible so I don't end up shooting anyone today. Can you be cool?"

"I'm always cool, _**mamacita**_. "

"If that were true, you wouldn't have gotten busted with your first ever bag of weed nor would you have missed your court date…homeskillet."

16 year old Alejandro "**_Serpiente_**" Gomez cracked up and I shook my head with amusement as I uncuffed him. Alejandro was pretty much Lester, only with much less muscle and braces. He lived with his older sister near the edge of the Burg and low level possession was his first offense. With the bail jump, he'd probably get about 90 days in juvy, the 450 dollar fine plus probation, less if he got a sympathetic judge. He was a good kid with good grades. He just needed better friends, is all…

"All right, I'll be good. Unless you want me to be bad…" he offered with a waggle of his brows.

"Come see me when you can drive something other than a go-kart legally."

Getting Alejandro through Receiving went smoothly and his sister was coming to get him so that meant I could get out of the Lion's Den. Well, more like a pile of kittens. It hadn't been bad. Of course, there had been a few whispers but nothing too bad. Morelli was out patrolling and apparently, Jeanne Ellen was more of a nocturnal bounty hunter. She could take the night shift if she wanted to. There's less chance of overlap that way. And I like sleeping…and _**not**_ sleeping with Carlos too much to be out chasing skips at 3-dark-thirty in the morning unless it was absolutely necessary. Catwoman can have those hours. What's the fun of using a Lasso of Truth if you're too damned sleepy to enjoy using it?


	62. Chapter 62

**Author's Note: Good evening. I saw the review count and my jaw hit the floor. I hit the refresh button about 5 times before I started grinning like an idiot. 1000 reviews! I never thought any of my stories would get that many and I am so happy and so appreciative of all you guys out there. I've finished a fic (a rarity nowadays) and come up with a rotation for updating so the wait for more should get smaller as I get into it. Holy 1000 reviews, Batman!**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and lock that shit up." _

-Ranger and Stephanie in One for the Money (2012)

* * *

><p>Carlos wants me to move in with him.<p>

He hasn't outright said it but I can tell. Ella's been stocking more and more of my things on 7 and every time I say that I have to go back to my place, there's a lightning quick flash of sadness that goes through his eyes before he says 'okay, Babe' and sends me on my way.

I suppose it makes sense. Our relationship is coming towards the year mark like gangbusters (I know, right?) and it's still good. We still understand how each other thinks and operates. We still talk openly and even when we argue, the idea of splitting up doesn't occur to either one of us. Well, I know me for sure but I figure that he's in the same boat. Carlos is a man of few words but he'll certainly let you know what he's thinking if necessary. Anyway, yeah. He wants me to move in with him.

And I'm surprisingly…okay with it.

Ever since I moved out of my parents' house, I've always had a deep need for my own space, a place that I could say was mine. Even if it was shitty, even if I constantly teetered on the edge of homelessness in said shitty place, it was still my place. The Dick never understood that or anything else about me for that matter and I cringe to think how Morelli would react if I refused to move in with him.

I don't want to refuse to move in with Carlos but at the same time, I hesitate to leave my apartment. Thanks to my being proactive, starting with my now infamous Lock Shock, and the series of upgrades, it's no longer shitty and piggy bank easy to break into. And there are good memories here. I came into my Bounty Hunting chops here. I impressed Carlos for the first time here. I really, truly stuck up for myself for the first time in ages here.

We made love for the first time here. The first times here…

But, I don't like leaving him or him having to leave when he comes here. It's stupid, really. We spend 80% of the time at Haywood anyway and Rex has to be shuttled back and forth every time I leave. And the Merry Men don't like it when I leave, either. They always look sad and staggeringly relieved when I come back. Carlos isn't the only one that loves me…

And I wouldn't have to pay rent or utilities anymore. Not all of it, anyway. I'd still want to contribute to the household income somehow. It's blindingly obvious that Carlos is well off and he has no qualms about taking care of me without it being like a 'kept woman' thing but still. If I've got working limbs and a working brain, I want to work. I'm good at Bounty Hunting now and I'm pretty much the go-to Researcher for RangeMan, only Silvio in Miami and Rodriguez himself better. I like that. I like helping out, plus if I'm working, I don't get bored. A bored Stephanie Plum is very, very dangerous…

"_**Nena**_…_what's wrong?_"

Although Babe will always be the nickname to end all names for me, _**nena**_ comes close. It only shows up when he is thoroughly turned on and barely awake to the point of crossing over to zombie-ville. Right now, it's the latter and it makes me want to melt into a pile of Steph goo…

"Carlos, what do you think of me moving in?"

"…permanently?" he asked slowly but not in a bad wariness. It's like he's afraid to believe, afraid to think that I'd actually want to be with him…

"Yes, permanently. I've been thinking about it for a while and if you'll have me…"

His arms went around me fully and hauled me into a slow, very thorough kiss. After enjoying for a good while, I broke it and caught his gaze. It was soft and utterly open, just like that one time before and it made me smile.

"So, that means yes?"

"I'll have Santos and Tank handle it in the morning."

"Do you really want Lester packing my stuff?"

"He knows better than to try something stupid with you by now, Babe."

"That being said, I'll be doing a headcount on my frilly underthings. Well, the ones that haven't been ruined by you already."

"You weren't complaining at the time."

"Of course I wasn't. I may be a little crazy but I'm not stupid."


	63. Chapter 63

**Author's Note: Good evening, everyone. After this chapter, there will be split POVs. I'm glad I was able to keep it solely in Ranger and Steph's heads for this long but if I'm gonna keep the story on the path I want it to be on, a change is needed. A tip of the hat to ****margaret aka whymelucylu for your PMs (it's always good to hear from you) and thank you all for your patience.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd _**_you_**_ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and lock that shit up." _

-Ranger and Stephanie in One for the Money (2012)

* * *

><p>"Okay, so this button turns the Lock Shock on and off. The way you'll know it's armed is by these lights around it. The trip lines need their batteries changed every couple of months and there are batteries in the cabinet next to the microwave."<p>

"Ain't this a pip? My grandbaby's a regular MacGuyver now…are you sure you want me in your old place, Stepphie? Don't one of your friends need it?"

"They're okay and this will be good for everyone. You won't have to argue with Daddy over the bathroom, anymore. Or the TV. Or the roast."

"Or life!", we finished before surrendering to mirth. After making the decision to move in with Ranger, I called Dillon to let him know. He was very understanding and wished me well, remarking about how I'd be missed. My presense in the building added a lot of excitement to the atmosphere. Well, why not give them the main source? I may have Plum hair and eyes but the wild, untamed spirit in me is all Mazur. Edna Mazur, anyway. If my mother was ever a fraction like Gram, I'd eat my shoes with both my feet in them. Gram never condemned me for being myself. She would show concern but she never made me feel ashamed to be a part of her family. Nor she ever treat me like I was brainless.

Like me, Gram's always been fiercely independent and I know that having to move in with Mom and Dad hurt her. She felt confined and restrained and I…well, better to have Gram here than Lula or Connie. Don't get me wrong, I love 'em to death but the trouble that Gram causes is way easier to handle than what they can cook up sometimes. Or me. _**Especially**_ me…

"Your mother's not too happy about all of this."

"Is she ever happy about anything nowadays? I mean, really? According to her, I'm crazy, Val's gone crazy, Dad's turned into a stranger she doesn't even know, and you're gallivanting about wild and free with no regard to our standing in our community…"

"Oh, like we're the Kennedys around here? Puh-leeze. And lemme tell ya, those Kennedys knew how to party hard back in the day. There was this one time in Bermuda and…"

"Gram?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Please don't."

"Are you sure?", she wheedled with waggling brows.

"_**Gram**_…", I wheezed desperately. No, just no. I do not want to hear about whatever naked or semi-naked shenanigans that my Gram got into with America's equivalent of a royal family. No, I **_really_** don't. La, la, la, la, la...

"Oh, all right. You've got a point all the way to the roots but Helen is Helen. She's always been Helen and she's always gonna be Helen. I hoped that one day she'd loosen up a little but…and you'd think she'd be happy! Both of her girls are working hard, you've found good men, and you can stand on your own two feet. If I were her, I'd be turning flips."

"You're not her, though."

"Thank God. Don't get me wrong. I will always love your mother but I wouldn't have lasted this long being that sad and stressed out over shit that just doesn't matter. She can have those worries."

Amen to that.


	64. Chapter 64

**Author's Note: Hello, everyone. Before I begin, I'd like to thank whymelucylu and JazMitch for their messages and for talking me off of a ledge. I've never deleted a story on here on purpose nor have I felt the urge to because at the end of the day, I write for me. I needed to regain that perspective and they helped me. Thank you both. That being said, I would like to assure you all out there that there is still method to this madness and if you fundamentally disagree with said methods or the madness itself, then please either PM me with your reasons and concerns or just stop reading the story. Simple as that.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and lock that shit up." _

-Ranger and Stephanie in One for the Money (2012)

* * *

><p><strong>Morelli's POV<strong>

Unbelievable.

Un-fucking-_**believable**_!

When Mrs. Plum had called me wailing once again about whatever Cupcake calls herself doing with Manoso, I figured she was over reacting. The woman's an overly traditional basket case and she has been for decades. Why Old Man Plum puts up with her is anyone's guess. I figured she would bitch about her job or her latest addition to her arsenal. According to people on the street, Cupcake was packing at least one silenced gun, a taser, and a knife the size of fucking Excalibur at all times. Mooch had told me that he had seen her throw it at a skip's tire from like 50 paces out and it had busted like something out of _**Die Hard**_.

Anyway, when she said that her batshit horny mother was taking over Cupcake's apartment so she could move into Manoso's Haywood fortress, I had to see for myself. No way. No fucking way could she be that crazy, that _**stupid**_…

Apparently, she was. Look, I'm not saying that I'm an expert or anything but from what I've seen over the years, people like Manoso and people like Cupcake didn't mix. Although, nobody really knows what he's like. He's been this untouchable, Man of Mystery ever since he arrived in Trenton. All anyone knows about him was that he was in the Army and he's got more money than God. Where he gets it, how it gets it is anyone's guess. Investigations into him are usually stonewalled within the first 48 but there were no signs of drug dealing or anything like that. Trust me, I looked. And Cupcake…she's a Burg girl whether she likes it or not and there are just things that Burg girls don't do. Regardless of her successes in dealing with my case and the nut jobs around here, she can't keep up with the big kids forever nor can she keep Manoso happy with her pussy forever. Don't get me wrong, it's a great one but…there's better out there and with less drama attached to it.

A swarm of men in black were shuttling boxes into SUVs and out of that blue monstrosity, a tow U-Haul attached to it. Cupcake was sitting on the hood of an SUV, idly playing with an angry looking dagger. Where the hell did she get a dagger from? Manoso approached her and the smile that curved her lips sent a shot of heat to my dick. Okay, I might be wrong about the sex, then…

_**/**_

**Ranger's POV**

"Did he really expect me to not recognize an unmarked cop car? I mean, they rust in the same places…"

"Do you want me to handle him?", I offered while continuing to drive us home…_**our**_ home.

"No. For now, he can watch all he wants. Maybe he'll finally get the hint and focus on Jeanne Ellen. I'm sure she'd appreciate it. No woman likes being second fiddle."

That I knew for sure. My sisters had come home with enough broken hearts and angry rants over the subject. But Burrows would tolerate any and everything if it meant fulfilling a mission, even it meant playing second fiddle to someone deemed utterly inferior. More audio surveillance of her meetings with Morelli proved it. She also had a vendetta against Santos and Tank for the Atlanta Distraction, which truly baffles me. What went down was absolutely her own fault and RangeMan is a business. Unproductive or loose cannon (in a bad way) employees have to be terminated for the sake of keeping the business afloat.

My theory is that she saw and still sees it as a personal slight against her because she's a woman in the Dark Ops circuit (which is bullshit…gender doesn't matter as long as you complete your missions) or more likely because it cut off her easy access to me.

"I don't get it, Babe. Her or Morelli, for that matter."

"I don't even think they get it, really. The heart wants what it wants and Jeanne Ellen's has focused on you and she won't settle for less. I don't blame her. I mean, being with you is like going through the birth canal. It's life changing and irreversible."

"_**Thanks**_, Stephanie."

"I meant it in a good way, Carlos."

"Okay. And Morelli?"

"It's all about the ego. I am the first woman to truly, thoroughly turn him down. Ever. At least around these parts. All these years of getting what he wanted from the ladies with just a smile and saucy limericks spoiled him and has made him think he's entitled to have whoever he wants. The fact that I'm saying no, the fact that I keep saying no, and the fact that I'm with a man that he can't come close to competing with is like getting punched in the gut every time he sees me or hears something new about us."

"Mm. So, he doesn't really care about you?"

"Maybe he does in his way but it's mainly ego and wanting to get me on my back, ankles in the air."

"That's absolute bullshit."

"Yes, it really is but thems the breaks. I know what I want. I know who I want and that's not changing anytime soon. I want to be with you, Carlos. I want to stay with you."

"And I want you to stay."


	65. Chapter 65

**Author's Note: Good afternoon, everyone. It's been 84 years and I deeply apologize. We are officially homestretching with this story but it'll be a long homestretch, about 20 more chapters after this one. Enjoy the update!**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_**Picked the lock**…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p><strong>Jeanne Ellen's POV<strong>

When I first saw him, it was like a deep painless kick to the gut. He had been sitting amongst a knot of men, Sherman and Santos among them, cleaning his gun. I couldn't look away from his steady hands, the utter focus in his deep brown eyes as he worked. A couple of weeks later, I got to see him in the Field for the first time. He had slipped seamlessly into a leadership role and was unafraid to get in the middle of the melee. Seeing him shoot, seeing him fight hand to hand, hearing the intelligence within his orders…he was my equal.

I wanted to be his. I did everything I could to become the go-to female operative in the Circuit and to establish a bit of a rapport with his teammates. I could tell that they didn't really like me but their opinions were invalid compared to his. One of the happiest days of my life was when he stood up for me against a chauvinistic Major, declaring my work to be top notch. Another was when his brows had raised in intrigue when I came into the bar he was decompressing at in a slinky purple and black dress. I was known for my leather, known for my armor but I wanted him to see that I was a woman underneath, viable and soft for his hands.

Unfortunately, the night had ended with him leaving with Santos and Sherman instead of me but I figured that I would get another chance to make a move, to open his eyes to what we could be together.

Taking the job at RangeMan proved to be a huge mistake. It had lessened me in his eyes and prompted distance, so much distance. Even when we were on missions, he avoided me like the Plague and barely spared me a glance. My actions in Atlanta had tainted us, my admittedly pathetic actions at his family gathering had made me look like little more than a cheap slut, a teenage girl who was enslaved to her hormones. I had decided to retreat for a while, to get a little perspective and to come up with a new plan of action…

Stephanie Plum.

Stephanie Michelle Plum of Trenton, NJ.

How she had managed to expose the heroin trade and exonerate a wrongly accused cop of murder had been in the local paper. I still got the paper for the area since he had set his main base up there. Still, I had seen her and dismissed her as a lucky amateur, a flash in the pan, 15 minutes of famer who would go back to a regular life of mediocrity. Her looks were nothing special, although I suppose if you squint, she'd look like Audrey Hepburn without the grace. She was supposed to be insignificant…

A RangeMan SUV pulled up to Vincent Plum's place of business and I snapped a shot of Ricardo getting out. As usual, he was in black from head to toe but today, a pair of aviators hid his eyes. Zooming in on his neck, I snarled under my breath as I spotted the distinct shape of a human bite mark there. It was a light mark, barely enough to scar but I knew it was from her. I also knew that she was living with him. Morelli had come back to mine with a case of beer and a chip on his shoulder, going on a 2 hour tangent against Ricardo and his 'Cupcake' before I had enough and silenced him with a blowjob.

It wasn't like I disagreed with him but there's only so much attention a woman will tolerate being fixed on another one before snapping. Since I still need him around for Intel on 'The Burg' and an easy lay, shooting him was out of the question. Still, after we spent the rest of the day in my bed, I could hear him murmuring for Plum in his sleep. He says that he doesn't love her and that I believe. It's a bruised ego obsession, not love. I suppose a case could be made for explaining my attraction to Ricardo in the same way…

The two of them came out and slipped into the alleyway. I waited until their lips met before taking a last picture, focusing mainly on the fact that Ricardo was smiling. It was against another woman's mouth, in another woman's arms but it was still a smile…

A smile that would be for me soon enough.


	66. Chapter 66

**Author's Note: It's been a long while (what else is new?) and for that I apologize. I haven't forgotten this story and I know where I want it to go. I just need to get off my lazy butt and write it. Thank you for your patience and your feedback.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __you__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __lock that shit up." _

-Ranger and Stephanie in One for the Money (2012)

* * *

><p><strong>Stephanie's POV<strong>

"What are you doing here?"

Even though her voice was calm, Jeanne Ellen's eyes were blazing mad, glaring at me like I was gum underneath her combat boots. If she wants to be mad at me for Carlos' choice to be with me, then that's fine. If I were her, I'd be mad, too. Although honestly, if I were her, I would've given up on Ranger after he said no the first time. I'm not saying that he's not a fine specimen of a man inside and out but a man only has to tell me 'no' once. No means No for everyone, not just for women and everyone should respect that, even if they're unhappy about that decision. There are over 7 billion people walking around on this planet. Surely, there's someone just as good as Carlos out there for her. Hell, I know there is.

Problem is, she doesn't or if she does, she doesn't want to accept it.

"My skip's last known address is in this building. I take it that it's the same with you?"

"Come back later.", she snapped icily, making the Rhino start to stir and stomp.

Jilted pseudo-lover or not, she's not going to order me around (only Carlos can do that and that's an entirely different and very, very satisfying ordering me around) and I'm not gonna indulge her pettiness more than I have to. After this skip, I have searches to finish for Rodriguez and there's a 50% off special at the Army Supply Store. I need more boots and cargoes, not to mention that really nice canteen I spotted a couple of weeks ago…anyway, no. Just…no. Fuck you and the roof you jumped off of, Catwoman…

"Forget it. Surveillance indicates that this is my best window for bringing him in and I was doing this job in The Burg first, Jeanne Ellen so that means I have seniority. _**You **_can come back later or you can just grow up and go get your skip without getting my way. Your choice."

Before she could reply, I walked into the apartment building's lobby and started upstairs. 24 year old Mathias Neiderman had gone FTA on an attempted robbery and vandalism charge. He had been drunk as a skunk and had decided to stick up the local Stop n Go for Stark Street money and a pack of cigarettes. Lorraine Kendrick, the 5'4 proprietor and 78 year old Jewish grandmother had heard the busting of a back window and 6'2 Neiderman ended up having the barrel of a 12 gauge pointed right in between his nostrils, the woman standing fearlessly on top of a milk crate behind her counter. When he bolted, he had knocked over 5 shelves worth of merchandise and ended up being shot in the ass. His long suffering (*cough* enabler *cough*) mother mortgaged her house to bail him out and the SOB didn't even thank her before going to ground like the rat he is. Fucker.

Even though my relationship with my mother is pretty much shot to Hell, I'd never do something like that to her and Neiderman's lucky enough to have a mom that loves him, regardless of who he is or what he's done. He ought to appreciate that…and I really need to stop dwelling on this or I'm gonna end up breaking this guy's skull on GP instead of waiting for him to attack me first.

Getting to apartment 6C, I knocked firmly on the door and the door was moved ajar, held back by a chain lock. Neiderman's brown eyes were bloodshot from sleep, booze, and whatever the hell he had gotten high on last night. His blonde hair was sticking up like Einstein's and thankfully, he was fully covered in black pajamas.

"'Sup, girl?", he half rasped-half slurred.

Wow…really? Jeez…

"My name is Stephanie Plum of RangeMan Securities and Vincent Plum Bail Bonds. I am a Bond Enforcement Agent and you are in violation of your bond agreement so I need to bring you in to be processed at the police station. If you're cooperative, it should only take about 15-20 minutes, unless the cops decide to lock you up and if they do, it's out of my control. If you're uncooperative, I'll bust this fucking door down and shoot you in the balls before dragging you to the police station in handcuffs. Either way, you're coming with me. You don't have to like it but you _**do**_ have to come on."

Half of the battle with my job is calm confidence and appearance. My created uniform was on point and Neiderman's eyes locked on my unholstered and ready gun in deep thought. Embracing the patience I've managed to cultivate, I met his gaze with no fear and he nodded to himself before unlocking the door. Keeping my guard up and raising my weapon, I gestured for him to get on his knees, hands on the back of his head. The cuffs went on securely and my gun was holstered after I made sure no one else was hiding in wait.

"It's kinda cold out so I'm gonna get you some shoes and a jacket, all right?"

"Yeah…yeah, you're cool. My slippers are next to my bed, I think. You really would've shot me in the balls?"

"If you took it there, yes. I don't like hurting people but I'm not about to let 'em hurt me, you know?", I replied with a small shrug.

"Mm…I fucked up, didn't I? With that old lady and with my Ma?", he asked in a small, scolded child tone.

"Yep but I think you can fix it with your Ma if you do your time, sober up, and find a way to pay her back. Get up and let's roll."

"Okay…what's all that noise?"

There was banging, crashing, and glass splintering…and swearing…a shitload of swearing.

My gun came back out and I peeked over the stair banister towards the lobby. Jeanne Ellen and a huge gorilla guy were tussling like they were in a MARVEL movie and she looked like she was overwhelmed. Appearances can be deceiving but personal differences aside, I'm not about to let her get peeled like a banana if I can help it. Aiming above their heads as I descended the stairs, I fired a warning shot and both of them froze as I got into the lobby proper. Catwoman's Death Glare was burning into the side of my head but I ignored that in favor of the seething gorilla. Good God, he was like Tank only very, very Nordic looking and he had crazy eyes. Tank doesn't have crazy eyes. I guess RangeMan eyes can count as crazy eyes but still…nope.

"Look, guy. I don't care nor do I want to know what your damage is but if you don't calm the fuck down and do what she says, I'll make all your problems go away via blood splatter. You got me?"

"Who the fuck…"

I fired again and the rest of his question was lost in a girlish scream as he held his now bleeding bicep as he fell to the floor like a 5 year old.

"Next one's going in your eye. Calm down and go back to jail."

"I had him!", Jeanne Ellen snapped at me, even as she wiped blood from a nasty looking cut on her temple.

"Maybe you did. I don't know. I'm still new at this. I **_do_** know that you two were in my way and I've got other shit to do today. Call an ambulance."

_**/**_

**Ranger's POV**

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Batman. The ruckus was with Jeanne Ellen and her skip."

"Your trackers showed that you were here and the scanner indicated that there were shots fired."

"That was my fault. I needed the two of them to stop fighting long enough to get Neiderman to the station and I wasn't getting in the middle. What was gorilla guy's name, anyway?"

"Babe, you shot Benjamin Pelt. He's been on the Most Wanted Lists for 3 years for everything from arson to attempted murder. There was a 4 million bond on his head and you helped bring him in."

"Oh. Well, good. That's one less monster on the streets. Is Jeanne Ellen gonna be okay?"

Every time I think that I've gotten used to Steph, she manages to surprise me. Even though she knows that Burrows hates her, she's genuinely concerned about the woman's welfare. The fact that she even helped her in the first place says something. Burrows likes to talk about how classy she is, how mature but Stephanie puts it into action. And 'gorilla guy'? Really?

"Ms. Plum?"

"Hi, Mr. Sebring. Is Jeanne Ellen gonna be okay?"

"She'll be fine. Her wounds are superficial. I just want to know where to send your cut of the take for Pelt."

"What?"

"Babe, your bullets took him down so that means you get a cut."

"But, he's Jeanne Ellen's skip, not mine. I wouldn't have shot him if she hadn't been there to draw him out."

"And you wouldn't have had to shoot him the first place if Burrows had kept her head. She drew him out but physical force is supposed to be a last resort. According to Pelt, as soon as he opened the door, she slugged him. Ms. Plum…"

"Stephanie, please."

"Stephanie, in this line of work, we do our best to keep things square amongst ourselves. You were part of this capture so you get your dues."

"She won't be happy about that…"

"Let me handle Burrows. She's my responsibility and now that I've been dealing with her, I can understand why you let her go, Manoso. She's damned good at what she does but she doesn't know how to dial it back to civvie level. She's a field operative to the Core and she needs to go back to that. Why's she lingering in Trenton, anyway?"

"Her reasons are her own.", I replied simply, not wanting to get into the whole Molotov Cocktail of issues at all.

"Hmph. Anyway, where do I send the check?"

"Send it to RangeMan. I'll make sure it gets where it's supposed to be."

Stephanie still looked uncomfortable at the idea but she didn't protest anymore. After Sebring made his exit, I guided her back to her truck and let her in, accepting her soft kiss on the lips as she started the engine.

"I'll see you at home."

"Later, Babe. Be safe."


	67. Chapter 67

**Author's Note: It's absolutely freezing outside my window and in order to take my mind off it and the old injuries affected, I want to write. More and longer updates will be sooner.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock." _

"_How'd _**_you_**_ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up**." _

-Ranger and Stephanie in One for the Money (2012)

* * *

><p><strong>Stephanie's POV<strong>

"_400,000 dollars_?", I asked weakly.

"Babe."

"I came to that apartment building to get Neiderman, who was worth about 5 grand and I walked out with 400,000 dollars? Is that what you're telling me?"

"10% is Sebring's standard rate to his hunters. 10 percent of 4 mil is 400K, a little less after taxes."

"But, I'm _**your**_ hunter…well, officially, I'm a contractor through Vinnie's but…400,000 dollars? What the hell am I gonna do with 400,000 dollars? There isn't a Macy's sale big enough for me to blow 400,000 dollars…"

Now, I know I sound stupid. I understand if you want to laugh at me again but seriously? 400,000 dollars is nothing to scoff at. Most people in the Burg never come close to seeing that sort of cash, even after years and years of working hard and I'm looking at it in my bank account. **Me.** Stephanie 'Walking Disaster', 'Bombshell Bounty Hunter', 'Scourge to the Burg' Plum earned almost half of a million dollars in one morning with two bullets and a chip on my shoulder to CatWoman. Speaking of CatWoman, she's gotta be chewing through steel right now. Not only did I steal her man, I'm encroaching on her superhero turf. Well, actually, I'm not. She's encroaching on mine. I was doing Bounty Hunting in that area way before she blew back to town and like Mr. Sebring said, she screwed up. Even **_I_ **know that you're not supposed to get violent with a skip until they do it first. Having to share a cut of the take with someone that she deems underneath her might be the push to get her out of town for good.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not worried about Jeanne Ellen getting her hands on Carlos. It takes two to tango, whether on the dance floor or in the sheets, and he has made it abundantly clear that he's not interested in doing either with her. Plus, she has Morelli and whatever the hell they call themselves doing. He's no Carlos but he's a pretty decent catch around these parts. Well, kinda. He was before what I did but The Burg has a form of short term memory loss when it feels like it when it comes to single men with a steady job. I want her gone because…hell, I just want her gone because I don't like her as a person. Is that petty? I think it is but I honestly do not care, anymore. All of my fucks to give about people's comfort level with me went out with taking my job seriously and with _**Swine**_…

"I should talk to Val. Steve drained the girls' college funds in his rat bastardom and I don't want to just drop a pile of money in without clearing it with her first."

"Okay. That leaves you with about 200K."

"It's just gonna sit there, Carlos. I mean, minus a Macy's sale and a few Tastykakes. And that new gun I saw at Ace's. It's got a white pearl handle like in the Westerns and it had some really cute roses engraved on it. I want that gun. It's a sexy ass gun…"

"When I first met you, I never thought that I'd ever hear you say something like that."

"You and me, both. Jeez…400,000 dollars? Seriously?"

_/_

**Jeanne Ellen's POV**

No matter how many clips I drained, I couldn't get the rage to calm.

Being in Trenton is just one big insult. It's smoggy and dirty and chock full of lowlifes. I understand why Ricardo set his company's main base here. It's easy money for anyone in securities and skip chasing. Even the old people are in on the illegal action and it would be funny if I wasn't constantly humiliated. The closer Plum and Ricardo get, the angrier that Morelli gets and the drunker. He knows better than to raise a hand to me but the whining is getting old.

And he's not nearly as good in bed as he believes he is.

What was enraging me was the fact that Plum had gotten a cut of the take from Pelt. The bastard was my skip and I was handling him just fine before she decided to stick her nose into business that had nothing to do with her. It was bad enough that she had managed to attach herself to Ricardo in an obscenely short time but now, she was interfering with my livelihood. Sebring had me on probation and was forcing me to take a partner with me in the field to 'keep things mellow'. I know that I'm ill suited for skip chasing but I need to sustain myself around here. I know that people want me gone. The RangeMinions, Plum, the busybodies in Morelli's neighborhood…Ricardo…

It hurts how much that he wants me gone.

_**/**_

**Helen's POV**

The silence at the dinner table was deafening. Frank sat at his usual place at the head, steadily devouring the turkey meatloaf I had prepared for him. Homemade garlic cheesy mashed potatoes and fresh green beans joined it, along with crusty bread and a pineapple upside down cake for dessert. One good thing that had come from Stephanie's madness with that Ranger person was that my mother had her own place again, her own independence. One of the biggest points of contention between Frank and I was her presense in our home and now that she has been gone for a while, I was hoping that it would be enough to thaw the growing ice from him.

No such luck. He still blames me for Stephanie's distance from the Burg and also for Valerie's. Our oldest daughter still worked as a janitor at the taxi company and part time as a cashier at the Meijer across the bridge. She had moved into the same part of town as the RangeMan fortress and had transferred the girls to a school near the Meijer. It was one of those schools that they always featured on the news, lots of art programs and 'personal attention' , attention that they could've easily gotten from the same school she and Stephanie went to. But, like her sister, the things she grew up with, the traditions just aren't good enough anymore…

Stephanie had moved in with the Ranger person. She was living in sin and still doing that damned job, a lucrative one if Margie Saunders at the Bank was to be believed. 400,000 dollars for running around, rolling in filth and muck, and dragging lowlifes and undesirables back to jail. Knowing how irresponsible she is, it'll probably be blown on shoes or more of those damned guns and knives she had to carry everywhere. Her father and I probably won't be seeing a penny of it, either. After all, it would be too much like right…

Frank gathered his dishes and went into the kitchen to wash them himself, not even sparing me a glance. He had taken to doing his own laundry, too and spending hours overtime at the Cab Company. He had moved into the room where my mother used to sleep and kept it immaculate, almost military like. Not only that but he had joined the fitness center and had shaved the last of his hair off, embracing the male pattern baldness that had set in years ago. Many of the ladies about town were praising me for eliciting the change and wishing that their husbands would bother to help out around the house, to try to look good…

If they knew the truth, they would keep their mouths shut and thank their lucky stars for their stable, predictable lives and families.

They won't be finding out the truth from me, though. I'll take it to my grave if I have to.


	68. Chapter 68

**Author's Note: Hi, everyone. My big sister is awesome. She took me to go get a new laptop charger from Wal-Mart (even though it's completely bonkers with last minute shoppers) and was going to take me to work before I got the awesome Hail Mary text that said I could crawl back into my warm bed. Whatever you do celebrate or don't, stay safe, happy, and have a good 2013-2014 transition.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

**Frank's POV**

Any little thing I can do to aggravate my wife (legally, of course), I'm going to do it.

In other marriages and communities, aggravation comes in the form of not working enough hours, belching and farting in front of company, and never lifting a finger to help out around the house. In my marriage and the Burg, aggravation is a man getting off his ass, taking his head out of it, and doing what's right, even if it means tradition gets chucked into the Delaware.

It all started when Pumpkin wrote her book. Well, she calls it a paper but everyone knows that it's a book and a damned good one at that. Reading her thoughts, seeing her pain, and knowing that the pieces of shit that caused it were still roaming around scot free had reignited a fire in me that I thought died in a scent of napalm. I can't do anything about the past. I can't go back and cull Helen's nagging, to temper it with love and more reasonable punishments, if they were even needed. I can't go back and stop Valerie's previously high handed ways, her giggling scorn of all things non-Burg and different, especially her baby sister. I certainly can't go back and put a whole clip of bullets in Joe Morelli's hollow sick head because if I could, you can bet your ass and fingertips that I would've done so by now. Twice over.

But, I can do something now and I can do something in the future for my grandbabies. Now, I speak up. I had to learn how to speak up again. I used to during the Flower Power Period. I was a fixture at any protest you could think of but when my number came up in the draft, I went. Patriotism, honor, and duty were a part of a Plum man's upbringing, along with the value of appreciating and excelling in whatever job you could get and loving and protecting one's family. So, I went willingly. And saw Hell. And endured Hell. And lost innocence, friends, brothers…going over there broke me in a way that I never dwelled on before, preferring to cope with silence and the good parts of the Burg. And there are good parts, really good parts. Unfortunately, the bad parts are the loudest…

"Good morning, Frank."

Not stopping my slow but steady pushups, I inclined my head in acknowledgment and could feel Helen scanning the Den, looking for something to dust or clean. Taking care of my own mess and meals was not only another way to aggravate her but it was…refreshing, a rediscovery, if you'll put up with the cliché. It was another way of regaining some of the control that I had surrendered and lost over the years. After coming back and marrying and making a family with Helen, I had shut down near completely. I had become passive, a figurehead that just wanted peace in the valley and to be left alone. It had led to a lonely, unhappy existence that I felt trapped in but as I said before, Stephanie's power moves against the Morelli piece of shit and the bullies in the Burg inspired me. Change is frightening and sometimes very difficult but with bravery and support, it can be done.

It has been done.

It will be done more.

My relationships with my daughters and my crazed mother in law have never been better but I'll be honest, my marriage is in trouble. Serious trouble. Another thing about the Plum family is that married means married, thick and thin but…she's not my wife, anymore. She's not my Helen, anymore. The sweet, strong, warm woman who kept her mind and heart open. She's just a shell of that on a good day and an outright harpy on a bad. And honestly, I'm not her Frank anymore. She doesn't understand me anymore and she doesn't know how to handle me anymore.

And I'm very okay with that, actually. I just…if my marriage can be saved, I want to take a real shot at it but if it can't…

We'll cross that bridge when we get to it.

"Are you…are you coming out for breakfast? I could make you something…"

"I'll take care of it before I go to work, Helen. Let me know if we need anything from the market while I'm out.", I replied politely, shifting on the thick blue yoga mat (Edna had left it behind and after I used a whole can of Lysol on it, it became invaluable) into the starting position for situps.

I'm about two shakes from 60 so I know that getting 'cut' and 'ripped' is pretty much a no-go for me but I can see my feet again without my gut getting in the way. I still have a gut but it's getting better. _**I'm**_ getting better. For the first time in a long time, there's genuine peace inside me. I feel productive and like an actual man again, not just a shell.

I don't want to go back to being a shell again.

_**/**_

**Helen's POV**

If I had thought I was at my wit's end before, it's nothing compared to now.

Since Frank was going to the market while he was out, I had decided to walk to the park for a bit of fresh air. Well, as fresh as air can get in this city and on the way, I passed the vacant but clean field near the high school track. Moreover, I spotted Valerie and her own Rangeperson in the grass. Kissing. From what I could tell, she was on her lunch break and Mr. Brown had come up with a picnic for them. The deep maroon coveralls she wore for her janitor's job was unzipped to the waist, showing off a pale gray tank top.

If that weren't bad enough, she pushed forward until she was straddled on the man like they were in the bedroom and took down her hair, hair that was splitting at the ends. Having no propriety at all, Mr. Brown just smiled at her and sat back up to hold her, picking up a strawberry to feed her.

I walked away before I saw more, before the neighbors saw me seeing them live, and I just…how could this have happened? Where did I go wrong with her? With Stephanie, it was just a lost cause. She was wild and stubborn and determined to be 'free', no matter how foolish she made herself and the family look. Valerie had been different. Valerie had absorbed the lessons I passed onto her like a sponge and had done well for herself until Steven's indiscretion.

Now, she's just as reckless and uncouth as her sister, worse because she has her girls. What kind of example is she setting? I mean, I have to give her credit. As far as I know, she and Mr. Brown have been together steadily but there's no formality, no rings, nothing tangible. Like Stephanie and that Ranger person, she's just leaving herself open for abandonment. Men get bored so easily and they change without any warning…at least with me and Frank, there's matrimony involved. There are vows. There's a safety net through God and the values of the Burg. Not that he really cares about them. No one in my damned family does, anymore.

Why me?


	69. Chapter 69

**Author's Note: Shout out to Margaret for her e-cards and her encouraging messages. These past few weeks have been absolutely bonkers. I almost got fired. My boss, who I adore, is bedridden with the effects of chemo on top of the already terminal illness she's got. The fucking 'Polar Vortex' (why didn't they just call it 'Snownado' and quit playing?) plus long hours of overcast skies and darkness triggered an ugly downward spiral with my depression and it's just…yeah. I'm okay, now. We're homestretching folks. I'm capping this one at 80 with an epilogue if necessary (or wanted) and I hope I finish strong. I know what I want to do. I just need to type it out, quit overthinking it, and go with it.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

**"_How'd he get in?"_**

**"_Picked the lock." _**

**"_How'd _****_you_**_** get in?"**_

**"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and _****_lock that shit up." _**

**-Ranger and Stephanie in ****One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p><strong>Morelli's POV<strong>

"Jesus, man…what's up your ass? She-Ra's on the rag or somethin'?", Big Dog asked while we shot pool in his living room, Eddie watching and waiting to take on the winner.

"I haven't seen her in almost a week. Sebring's got her working like a Christmas time hooker. And I'm not missing her. She's been really pissy lately and I think Manoso's got something to do with it."

"Joe, I know you don't like him but seriously? Next thing I know, you'll be blaming the guy for global warming and the failed inquiries into A-Rod. I mean, yeah. He's a scary, crazy Cuban fuck but he's not the Devil. The only reason you really have to pissed at him is because of…aw, come on, man! Don't tell me you're still hung up on Steph…", Eddie demanded with disgusted amusement.

If I had a dollar for every time I've heard that, I'd be able to buy this damned town 20 times over. No one understands it. Hell, I don't even understand it. Stephanie Plum has been little more than a laughingstock around here for years. Clumsy, unable to even boil water, and her family alone is enough to make a man join the Priesthood. There's all sorts of crazy going on in that bloodline and no man would want to keep it going. And yet, I can't stop thinking about her, _**wanting **_her…

It's fucking ridiculous. She hit me with a car. She acted all sweet and warm while she was chasing me. We took down Alpha and cleared my name. There was something good going and then she just went off the fucking rails. She locked me in the back of that meat truck with Ramirez and Carmen's body. She drove over every pothole, swerved like she was going to go off the road a half dozen times and I could hear her giggling in the cab with every grunt of pain, every smash. She yelled at me in front of the precinct and had taunted me, told me to bring it on. I would've brought it on. I would've given it to her good and I was going to stake my claim on her, at least long enough to get back inside her.

She grew up pretty nice. I saw her potential in the Tasty Pastry and it had been easy to get her on her back. For all her talk of 'flying' and all her mother's complaints, Cupcake's a damned Burg girl and Burg girls can't resist a Morelli. If they wanted a bad boy, a good fuck, and to stay in the community's good graces in the long run, they went with one of us. Since she was so determined to be a Bounty Hunter for her sick fuck cousin, I figured that a 'bad boy' would be up her alley, now. Hell, knowing how much of a stiff snooty jackass that Dick guy and how busy she had been, she had to be hard up. I had picked up her favorite cupcake and headed to her place that sunny morning, wanting to make peace…

As soon as she opened the door to her shitty apartment, all glossy eyed and rumpled, my dick had been at attention. And as soon as that fucker's hand came into view, as soon as her face drooped in delight as he humped against her ass, it had come crashing down.

**_"…I told you that it was about the 50 grand from Jump Street and it's not my fucking fault if you didn't believe me!"_ **And then to add even more insult to injury, she had snatched the cupcake before slamming the door in my damned face so Manoso could continue to do her. Lingering in disbelief, I had heard someone get shoved to a bed and before I left, a moaning gasp of 'yes' that was worthy of the best porn films out there.

After stewing for the rest of the day, I decided to let her do what she wanted for a little while. Manoso, for all his bullshit, had appeal, especially to women in this area. He had money and kept an icy 'man of mystery' image up to everyone. Women flocked that kind of thing. I don't know why. It's fucking stupid. Anyway, I figured that it would last a week, 2 tops and then while she was licking her wounds, I'd make my move. Once word spread that she was really going to 'train' with Manoso and someone had actually seen them holding hands outside her building, I went to her mother's place after 2 days.

What can I say? Patience has never been my strong suit and the only Burg mother worse than Helen Plum is my own. You do what she says just to shut her the fuck up and it works out in the end. Most of the time, anyway. Naturally, the woman had been horrified to learn that she wanted to be a Bounty Hunter permanently and had been aghast that she had been holed up with some guy (I did Cupcake a favor and didn't mention exactly who it was…) for 2 days doing god knows what. She had called her immediately and put her on speaker, expecting to be able to reason with her and when that failed, she had me take over…and crash and burn.

After her Gram had me running for my life, I figured that talking to her in person would my best bet. She probably wouldn't open the door so I had decided to pick her lock again. A 2nd grader with a Pez dispenser could get in there and she was too polite to just kick me out…

The only thing I remember other than excruciating pain and the smell of burnt hair is waking up a to fucking gun in my mouth. She had put a gun in my mouth as easily as she smeared on lipstick and Manoso was all too eager to do her bidding, regardless of her claims otherwise. The crazy prick... she had put a deep line in the sand and really, I could've just walked away then. Found some willing broad to hook up with and forgot all about Cupcake but I just…and then, she started just…blossoming.

She was still crazy as fuck but she learned how to cook. She still wanted to chase skips but she dressed better and according to the Grapevine, pretty much severed all contact with her mother, which was more than fine by me. The woman gets on my damned nerves. She gets on everyone's nerves, really. Even Old Man Plum's started to get sick of her bullshit. Stephanie's even decent at her job, now. Word around the street is that she's been pulling in some serious cash nowadays. It was all Jeanne Ellen could talk about last week, since her latest windfall involved some serious poaching from the blonde maniac. And she was a damned maniac. All she really did was bounty hunting and she was at the range almost every day for 3 hours.

Who she's imagining that she's blowing away is anyone's guess…

"I'm not hung up on Stephanie, Eddie."

"Bullshit and you need to let it go. It's been almost a year since she hooked up with Ranger and they're going stronger than ever. He even took her dancing up in Newark. Shirley and her friends saw them during their Girls Night Out. And there was a shitload of his family around, too. If anyone's got a chance of breaking through her marriage allergy, it's Ranger and you need to ease up because he'll put you in the damned river in a minute if you do something stupid. And I'd help him."

"Guys, maybe we shouldn't be talking about…"

"Fuck that shit, Big Dog! What's the matter, Gazarra? You weren't satisfied with stealing my job, earlier?! Now, you gotta stick your nose into my love life, too?!"

"What love life? The only reason you're in Burrows' pants is because she's just as pathetic about Ranger as you are about Stephanie and FYI? You fucked yourself out of being detective and it's poetic fucking justice because you didn't deserve it in the first place and you should've gone up the fucking river for what you did to Steph in that donut shop!"

"I was young and dumb and she didn't even press charges…"

The pool stick was thrown directly at my head and only years of learning how to dodge kept me from being impaled.

"She should've! Somebody should've fucking done something and I got to live with the fact that I didn't for the rest of my damned life! But, let me tell you something right now, Morelli: she's happy. She's really fucking happy and she's a part of my family, now. I'll lay down my life for my family and I'll take one for my family, too. Fuck with her and Ranger and his people will get what's left of you when I'm done. Big Dog, I'm out…see you at work, tomorrow."

Big Dog looked at me for a long moment and then at the pool stick that was wedged in the screen of the open window. Putting down his own stick, he opened a drawer and pulled out a big roll of duct tape.

"Let yourself out. See you at work, tomorrow."

Shaking my head, I pulled on my leather jacket and went outside. Getting in my car, I just started driving. I should be used to this, by now. Cupcake's little book was still causing ripple effects in my life, months later. I should've just kept my fucking mouth and waited it out with her and Manoso. They won't last. They may think they will and some around here think they will but I know that it won't last. He'll get sick of her craziness or he'll end getting shot in the head by one of the lowlifes he chases down and then it'll be over. She'll be devastated, of course but it would be okay.

I'll be right there to pick up the pieces.

And I won't even say 'I told you so' once.


	70. Chapter 70

**Author's Note: Again, shout out to Margaret for her e-cards and to everyone who hasn't given up on this story yet. It's gonna be worth the wait. Things are about to come to a boil. Thank you for your patience and enjoy the chapter.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p><strong>Stephanie's POV<strong>

"Time?", I asked.

"4:32. 20 seconds off."

"Awesome. Let's do it again."

"Beautiful, is there something you need to tell us? I mean, you already know how to get loose from cuffs with a kit. Why do you want to learn how to do it with…"

"I'm not always going to have my tools with me. You know that Bounty Hunting's dangerous. You know that people are pissed at me for doing the job and Carlos has enemies. We both have enemies that would be all too happy to put me in the Delaware. Any little thing I can do to give myself an advantage, I'm gonna do it, including knowing how to get loose from handcuffs with a bobby pin or an old nail. "

"I get it but you didn't answer my question. Did someone threaten you?"

No. Actually, I can say that for the first time in my life, things have been running completely smoothly. The Burg Grapevine's been leaving me and Val alone (after all, it's just no fun to gossip about people who don't give a fuck anymore…), my skips have been challenging but not in the exploding, garbage flinging ways, and my bank account is completely flush with cash. After donating to the girls' college funds, half of the remaining windfall went towards my student loans and the rest is just sitting there. It's nice to no longer have to count pennies or dodge collection department calls. And living with Carlos and the RangeMen full time has been a blast. I get to set my own hours, work out in a private gym, and best of all, I get to wake up next to the man I love every single day. My relationship with Carlos is thriving, genuinely thriving and I no longer see things with an expiration date between us. Well, other than an expiration date that comes a very long time from now…

Yet, I just can't shake the feeling that something's about to go down. As time passed, Jeanne Ellen and Morelli have pretty much settled into a groove of their own, volatile as it is. Mary Lou and Connie keep me informed. Jeanne Ellen spends the majority of her time at the house his Aunt left to him and while they're not blissfully happy, they seem to be solid. They seem to have forgotten all about me and Carlos. And my mother…well, according to Dad, she's been quiet. Instead of harping on about the various 'indiscretions' Val and I are doing, she seems to be content to pretend that she doesn't have daughters at all, which hurts but it's better than the nagging, the guilt trips, the matchmaking…

Something big is brewing. I can feel it in my bones. It's just too calm, too smooth, too **_happy_**…maybe I'm just looking a gift horse in the mouth but one thing that being with Carlos has taught me is that it's important to be prepared and aware.

"No, Les. Nothing's going on. I just want to keep my skills up. Don't get me wrong, the way I used to do things was exciting but it was pretty damned dangerous. I got too much to lose to go all half cocked now."

"Not to mention the whole negative Circle of Life thing we talked about last year…you'd tell if something was bugging you, right? Or someone?"

"I would."

"Before or after you tried to take care of it yourself?"

"Start the timer again, Santos."

"I should've known…okay, go!"

_**/**_

**Jeanne Ellen's POV**

"You seem to have forgotten that you're supposed to be preparing a holding cell, not a love nest. What do you need these for?"

"Don't worry about it. And stop talking about it like that. I just want to talk to her."

The last time I checked, conversations didn't require a box of condoms nor silk sheets but fine. We both know that conversation is the last thing he wants from her but whatever. It's not like I really care what Morelli does with Plum, anyway. Just as long as she's out the way and out of Ricardo's life, he can do what he wants. Although, it's pretty ironic that someone who claims to be on the right side of the law is so eager to pull a move like this off. It's definitely a move of desperation. Morelli's fixation on Ricardo's bumbling bitch hasn't lessened by a bit. Even after she rejected him, even after she wrote her little book, even after he got demoted, he wants her.

I can't help but feel a bit jealous. No man has ever been so determined to win my favor before. All they see is the operative or the blonde bombshell to get rid of a post combat hard on with. None of them ever tried to get to know me. Of course, I never really gave them an opening to but couldn't they have at least tried? Couldn't Ricardo have at least tried? We would've been unstoppable in the Circuit together, a Dream Team, a power couple…greatness would have been ours.

Greatness can still be ours. After all, if his little Babe disappears into the night, never to be heard from again, he'll be devastated. Ricardo always found solace in work and in dealing death out to the deserving ones. He'll leave his little company behind and go deep into the contract work, into the places and operations that others would never touch. And I'll be right there by his side to provide backup and comfort. He'll finally open his eyes and see what I can offer him, what I've been offering, and indulge himself to his heart's content…

"So, when am I supposed to grab her for you? And how?"

"No, not you. She doesn't trust you and none of Manoso's thugs do either."

"So, you're going to do it yourself? You'll be dead before you can start the engine."

"I've got a guy who owes me a favor. He's a contact in the Grizolli family."

"You're really going to waste a Mafia favor on Plum?"

"Don't start. You're the one who's obsessed with a fucking psychopath."

It takes one to know one, shithead.


	71. Chapter 71

**Author's Note: I'm back. It's been 84 years again. Margaret has still been awesome with all her cards and emails and the rest of this story is dedicated to her and everyone who hasn't given up on me yet. It's about to go down…**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_**Picked the lock**…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p><strong>Stephanie's POV<strong>

_Keep breathing, Babe…keep breathing and keep calm…you can do this…I'm coming for you…everyone is…just hold on and don't give up…breathe, Babe...  
><em>

When my inner '**calm the fuck down, woman!**' voice had taken on Carlos' voice and mentality is a complete mystery to me but it's working wonders in upping my Zen. Not completely because I have every right to be terrified. I'm in a fucking trunk. Oh, God, Lula! What happened to Lula? She's not in the trunk with me and I saw her fall down before lightning hit my system. Jesus, being tazed hurts. And then being injected full of God knows what hurts worse because then you wake up in a trunk with a dry mouth, a quarter full bladder (thank God I peed earlier), duct taped hands and ankles, and so much fear in your chest, it's sickening. I'm in a trunk. I'm in a fast moving trunk on the freeway and by the sounds of things, we're heading straight for New York City…

I knew that this day would come sooner or later. I just knew it. It was one of my main Cons in continuing to be a bounty hunter. One day, I knew that someone that I helped get locked up again or a member of their family or their BFF would come back with a hard on against me and something to prove to everyone. After all, I'm not just a bounty hunter, I'm the Bombshell Bounty Hunter, a local legend and tour de force. I'm known to get my skips no matter what, blow all kinds of shit up, and to be very firmly attached to Trenton's answer to Batman…oh, god…Carlos must be going out of his mind. Someone's got me. He loves me, he needs me, he let me in past his defenses (and I know better than anyone, except his family and Les and Tank, just how difficult that is for him…) and now some stupid bitch or bastard has kidnapped me. What the hell do they want? What are they going to do to me? Is there more than two? There was two in the ambush. One of them got Lula and I shot him as he ran. On my way to check Lula, the tazer hit me and the drugs…what's going to happen next? Will there be a ransom call or some sort of twisted, action movie-esque scavenger hunt to find me?

Am I going to be beaten and starved?

Am I going to be tortured?

Am I going to be raped?

Am I going to die?

I don't want to die.

I really, really, _**really **_don't want to die…

I bit back a groan of pain as the motion of the brakes being hit abruptly threw me against the back of the trunk and yep, we're definitely heading into New York City. No other major city's traffic on the Eastern Seaboard makes this amount of racket. Okay, that's a generalization. I've never really traveled out of the Trenton-Newark area and where I have been were small little towns for vacations or to get my head back on straight after a catastrophe…I want to travel more. I want to go to Hawaii, Tahiti, Rio…I want to relearn Spanish and learn a new language like Japanese. I want to build a computer from the ground up. I want to try and make Carlos' favorite dessert all by myself (and maybe he can eat the red velvet cake off of me) as a birthday surprise. I want to hit the Macy's sale coming up next week. I want to see the next **MARVEL** movie. I just want…

Shit, I just want to _**live.**_

You know what?

Fuck it.

I'm not dying during this shit, not without a fight to end.

No.

I've got too many people I love, too many people that love me, and too much shit that I haven't gotten to do yet to let it end now.

I'm not going to die during this.

I_** refuse **_to die during this!

I'm going to live and I'm going to go home to Carlos intact…but how can I make that goal happen? Think, Stephanie, think!

_You're secured with duct tape right now, not cuffs or leather. It's hot in the trunk, Babe. Hot confined spaces plus cheap tape adhesive…_

Right. Hands first and then ankles. There's a steering wheel lock club underneath my legs. I can tell because the lock part's digging into the space between my ass and legs (thank God I had opted to wear my cargoes instead of a skirt today) and if I can get free, that can be a weapon…

_**/**_

**Ranger's POV**

With shaking gloved hands, I picked up the broken strap to Steph's satchel on the floor and passed it to a grim faced crime scene tech. When I first arrived to the Trenton area, I had gotten a permit from the Police Chief for RangeMan to assist in major investigations and now…they took my Babe. They ambushed her and they took her…

"…can't fucking believe they took her! What kind of partner am I? I mean, I got the piece of shit's DNA like on the **CSI**s before I passed out but...shit, this is all my fault!"

"No, it's not.", I declared firmly, breaking my silence for the first time since the Core Team had arrived on the scene.

Lula's temple was bruised and there was a tazer mark on her chest. She was wrapped in a shock blanket and Tank and she looked devastated as a rookie cop took her statement. I understand why. Steph's her best friend, maybe her first real friend and she had to watch as some piece of shit tazed and took her. There was an uncapped syringe left behind and a large dust print were she must have landed. _**Dios**_, what if she hit her head on the way down or on impact? What if she doesn't wake up from the tazer hit or what if the fucker put too much sedative into the syringe, into her system? What if she…

"That Morelli piece of shit has to be the one who did it. Where the fuck is he 'cause I'm gonna shoot his motherfuckin' nuts off if he's laid a finger on my girl! He already got Carmen killed! He's not gonna do the same thing to Steph, I swear to God!"

"Ma'am, you can't be sure…"

"Oh, blow it out of your ass, baby pig! Everyone that's been in town for more than 5 minutes knows that that shiteating fool's got a beef and a twitching hard on for her! Ever since White Girl brought him in as a skip, he's been obsessed with her! She wrote that book of hers to make him go away but he's too stupid and horny to take a damned hint! I'm telling you, Morelli either did it hisself or paid some other stupid fuckhead to do the dirty work for him, I'd bet my life and my best red bottoms on it…dirty work…oh my God, Pierre, you guys have gotta find her fast! What if he…he'd fucking do it, I _**know**_ he would!"

And so do I…

"Tallulah, we're gonna find her and we'll bring her home. She'll be okay, baby. I promise."

"Don't you make a promise like that to me, Tankie. Y'all know better than I do what could happen to her and if you make a promise like that and it doesn't work out…"

This is my worst nightmare. This is why I spent so many years having a philosophy against attachments, against long term relationships, 'love with a condom, not a ring' but…I can't undo the fact that I'm in love with Stephanie and I don't want to undo it. She makes me a better man, pardon the cliche. She doesn't take any shit but she's still soft, still warm, still so loving and patient. She looks at me, at all of us, not as monsters or sexual conquests but as men, as humans, as people. She…she's everything to me and now, she's gone. Although I'm 98% certain that Morelli is behind this, I need solid proof. As much as I want to kill the _**pendejo**_ for everything he put Steph through, I am a man of my word. I promised my Babe that I wouldn't go after him for past sins and I meant it.

However, new sins, especially as one as grave as kidnapping and possibly violating the love of my life…

"Cal, stay with the cops and help them run down leads. Santos and Brown, find Burrows and bring her in. Yesterday. She's been fucking Morelli and she's just as deluded as he is when it comes to myself and Stephanie. She'd help him blow up the fucking White House if it meant she could get my dick in her. Tank and Hector, you're coming with me."

"Where?"

"We're going to have a nice chat with Helen Plum."

_**/**_

**Frank's POV**

"Helen, if you've got something to do with this, you better open your mouth because if they don't kill you, I will for putting our daughter in danger."

"Joseph would never hurt her! He just wants to talk to her, that's all…"

"Bullshit! He's a Morelli! He's an oversexed, entitled piece of shit and when Stephanie tells him to go fuck himself, he'll hurt her! He might even kill her!"

"Mother, where did he say he was taking Stephanie? Goddamn it, that's my little sister and you're just going to let her get raped or killed just because she won't kiss your ass anymore?!"

"Valerie, I am your mother and…"

"Right now, you're nothing more than another stupid Burg bitch who's hurt my family! Tell them exactly where Stephanie is now!"

"You're all overreacting! It's just…Eddie, what do you think you're…"

"Helen Plum, you are under arrest for accessory to the assault and kidnapping of Stephanie Plum. You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will appointed to you by the court. Do you understand these rights?"

"Frank, are you just going to let him arrest me?!"

"I am. As far as I'm concerned, you can rot in jail away from your precious Burg and your little friends for the rest of your life. I want a divorce."

Helen's face went ghostly pale and I looked away as she actually retched. Of course, she'd only show concern and horror after she gets 'humiliated'. Never mind that our youngest daughter has been kidnapped, never mind that the person who ordered or did the kidnapping is the latest incarnation of sick, drunken bastard from the Morelli family, never mind that her grandchildren are devastated and worried sick about their aunt, never mind that the man that actually loves Stephanie is close to tears as he demands answers…no. I'm done with her. After we get Stephanie back, the divorce will happen and I never want to see this bitch again. She is no longer my wife, she is no longer the woman that I love…she's nothing to me.

Carlos stepped forward and pointed one of his guns at the underside of her jaw, calmly undoing the safety.

"The only person that I have more disdain for in Stephanie's life than Morelli is you. You are her mother. You were supposed to protect her and love her for who she is and you failed miserably, time after time. Many people have allowed you to hurt her, both in this house and out but no more. If you want to die from natural causes, you will talk. **Now**."

_**/**_

**Stephanie's POV**

_Keep him talking, Babe…if he's talking, he's giving Intel…Intel can save your life and make it easier for all of us to find you…stay strong, Babe…we're coming for you…I'm coming for you…_

Come faster, Carlos. Please come faster…

"That was a stupid thing you did, Cupcake. You killed a mafioso. You bashed his fucking head in. You're going to have a whole Family after you."

"They're gonna come after you first for putting him in the line of fire, anyway. It was worth it. He and his little friend should've left me and Lula alone. And while we're on the subject of doing stupid things: _**really?**_"

"I just want to talk to you, Cupcake. I've been wanting to talk to you for months but you're always surrounded by Manoso and his minions, his fucking army of thugs. They couldn't protect you from being taken, could they? Look where you are now because you decided to be with…"

"Oh, for fuck's sake…can we just skip to the part where you kill me? I've been lectured enough by Helen on my life's choices to last six lifetimes. Morelli, you were nothing to me but a big pay day and a chance for revenge long overdue. Hitting you with Big Blue was great but it just…karma needed to take more chunks out of you. The fact that I ended up exonerating you for what happened to Carmen and those other girls was just part of the job."

"You were flirting with me! You let me cook you dinner and…"

"You know, I really should thank you. See, if you hadn't been a stupid dick and handcuffed me to my shower curtain, I wouldn't have realized that I could trust Carlos. He got me loose and he didn't even look away from my face or cop a feel. I wanted him to but that's beside the point…"

"You called Manoso?"

"Duh…who'd you think I called? The fucking Ghostbusters?"

"I just figured you called your dad or you got loose on your own."

"Jesus shitting Christ, you're thick. If I had called my dad, then his funeral would've the morning after and just how the hell would I get loose on my own? I didn't even know how to use handcuffs right at the time, much less get loose from them while I'm buck ass nude and dripping wet. I hope you enjoyed the peep show then, motherfucker because you're not seeing it again."

"Don't be so fucking sure. Look where you are. I can do whatever I want to you and you couldn't stop me. I'd make you want it."

"Doubtful and you'd be proving every single person who declared you to be a carbon copy of your lousy dad right if you did. Actually, you'd be worse than him. He was a falling down sloppy drunk and a woman beater and an obnoxious piece of shit but never a rapist. Of course, it's not like you care about that anymore. You've kidnapped me and obviously you planned it. Satin sheets, Morelli? Red satin sheets? Did you get your decorating and romance skills from **Deep Throat** or from **Debbie Does Dallas**?"

The back of his hand connected with my already bruised cheek and I spat a big nasty loogie right in his eye, blood mixed within the usual ingredients. After we came to a stop in what sounded like a warehouse, I came out of the trunk swinging. The piece of shit who hurt me had a gun but one can't shoot someone if they've got brain and skull bits in their eyes. He had fought back, leading to the bruise on my cheek but in the end, I won. Of course, it was a hollow victory because before I could think of running, Morelli was there and pointing a gun of his own right in between my eyes.

Fucker.

_Pick your battles wisely, Babe…his time will come…we'll take him out together…_

I dropped the club and he dragged me outside to the back of an old boarded up brownstone. Despite the boards and somewhat overgrown exterior (Helen would have a heart attack at the state of what used to be a garden), the interior was clean. Freshly clean and there were tarps over all the furniture. Morelli hustled me downstairs to an unfinished basement and then to a very heavy metal door.

The cell was medium sized. It even had a half bathroom, although the interior was 70s shabby chic like my old apartment's. The floor was concrete and a large mattress took up the upper left hand corner. He pushed me down and cuffed my hands behind my back, taking my boots in an effort to keep me from running. The remains of my satchel were thrown onto the mattress too and I knew that all my weapons were gone. While he had gone back upstairs, I nudged it open and out spilled my makeup. Carefully, I used my big toe to press firmly on the side of the green camo mascara wand. It was a panic button and a tracker. Afterwards, I grabbed it in my teeth and scooting, stuffed it in a small dent in the floor between the mattress and wall. Kicking the flat pillow over it, I sat down on it and smiled at my small victory.

Morelli may have me right now. He may even touch me but in the end, he'll get his dues.

I just have to hold on…

"What the fuck is _**wrong with you?!**_", he roared while wiping at his eye disgustedly.

Really? He's grossed out by that? He can plan a kidnapping with intent to rape with nary a blink but he can't handle a little blood laced booger mucus?

What a baby!

"That's rich, coming from you! _**Inutile **__**stronzetto**__**! **__**Bruciare all'inferno**__**!**_ _**Ti odio**__**!**_"

I may be partially Italian but I know enough to get my point across. He is a **useless little shit**, he deserves to **burn in hell**, and I do **hate him**. Before, Joe Morelli was just an annoyance, a mistake made when I was young and dumb coming back to haunt me but now, he's crossed the line. It makes me absolutely sick to know that I was tempted to climb back into bed with him after the dust settled. Even as I made my Lock Shock and kept my guard up, my stupid little Morelli fixation tried to come back into full gear. It would just be sex, it was saying. Nothing serious. It would an easy way to end the dry spell the Dick left me in and finally shut Helen up about my being unattached…I thank God that Carlos showed up that day. I thank God that I hadn't overthought things and just pounced on Carlos that day. I thank God for Ricardo Carlos Manoso and my decision to be with him, to let him train and guide me, to let him love me…

The cell door slammed with a loud bang and Morelli tromped up the stairs and slammed the door that led to the kitchen. Fine. Good. He can leave me down here. He's probably expecting me to start crying or start screaming for help but I won't. I don't need to. I wouldn't need to even if I didn't have the tracker with me.

Carlos will come for me. He won't forget about me and he'll be here to rescue me.

And then we'll kill Morelli together.

Slowly.

Painfully.

It's gonna be great...


	72. Chapter 72

**Author's Note: I have a very bad migraine, keeping me mainly to my bed in a semi conscious state today. It's a little better now (maybe I can eat something before passing out again) so in order to take my mind off of it all (and the deeply hurt and annoyed rage that SCANDAL has prompted), I shall write. Thank you to Margaret for being awesome and supportive as always and Mad Love to all of you out there who are still reading and haven't given up on this story yet. It'll be worth the wait in the end. At least I hope so…**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd _**_you_**_ get in?"_

"_**Picked the lock**__…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up.**__" _

-Ranger and Stephanie in One for the Money (2012)

* * *

><p><strong>Morelli's POV<strong>

"…_**6 hours into the search for Stephanie Plum of Trenton, New Jersey. Ms. Plum is also known as the 'Bombshell Bounty Hunter' and**_…"

"…_**approximately 135 pounds, dark brown hair, blue eyes. She was last seen wearing**_…"

"…_**private security firm RangeMan Inc. has been assisting in the investigation. Ms. Plum is a contractor through the company and obviously well thought of and cared about by the company. Owner and CEO, Ricardo Manoso is offering a 150,000 reward for any information**_…"

"…_**mother Helen Plum has been arrested and charged in connection with her daughter's kidnapping…"**_

My heart plummeted to my stomach and I hurriedly changed the channel to the Rangers game. Damn it. This wasn't going anywhere near as planned. She should be up here with me, happy to be free of Manoso and we should be in bed right now. We should be planning on what to say when we got back to Trenton and what to do about the Mafioso problem she had caused earlier.

I still can't believe she managed to kill Laurence and so fucking brutally, too? Jesus…

It had been hours and I had gotten nowhere with Cupcake. After letting her cool off for a couple of hours…okay, after me cooling off for a couple of hours (and getting the last of her phlegm out of my eye), I went back down with something to eat and drink. She had demanded that I sample them both in front of her and I went along with it. I'm not trying to hurt her, regardless of what she thinks. I just…she needs to understand that there are consequences to her actions. She needs to understand that she can't just flounce around and do whatever she wants to do without even giving a thought to the people and traditions that we grew up with…

She has to relearn her place. It's not too late, yet...

What kills me is that she's not even a little bit afraid of her situation. She was actually asleep when I came back in, not having a care in the world that I can do whatever I want to her. Yet, what she said to me earlier chafed. My father was a piece of shit. Every Morelli man before me has been a piece of shit and I did my best not to act as badly as they did. I get it. I'm no boy scout. Cupcake may be the most prominent example of that but she's not the only one. I was young and dumb and thought that the sun shone out of my ass. It had been laughably easy to get any girl I wanted, Cupcake included but…I'm not a rapist. I'm _**not**_. That's not…okay, I guess what happened in the Tasty Pastry that night could be construed as assault but she never pressed any formal charges and even if she had, I would've walked…of course, if her stupid mom opens her mouth, I'm fucked now.

Involving Jeanne Ellen had been necessary. Not only was she a fantastic lay (when she wasn't being an icy homicidal bitch), she was a connection to Manoso's life before he had decided to grace Trenton with his presence. I had reached out to her for Intel on him originally but it turns out, she had been doing the same for Cupcake. Apparently, Manoso had taken her up to Newark for a family wedding and Jeanne Ellen had followed them, looking to scope out and psych out the competition, so to speak. Instead, Cupcake had held firm and was still saying that she loved the crazy son of a bitch. How she can say that and mean it so quickly, so fanatically is absolutely fucking ludicrous to me. She barely even knows the guy! The only reason they even met was because of my case and I'm still burning at her little confession from earlier. If I had known that cuffing her to the shower would be the first opening for that sick, crazy Cuban fuck to get into her life and pussy, I would've never done it. Okay, I would've but I would've uncuffed her before I left, regardless of how fucking hot she looked.

Anyway, Jeanne Ellen was absolutely determined to have Manoso for herself and she was harboring a huge grudge against Cupcake. She had managed to 'do everything she had dreamed' in less than a third of the time. Jeanne Ellen has been around Manoso and his ilk for over a decade and had barely gotten anywhere with him. Cupcake just swooped in and hooked him like it was nothing. It was something, all right. Her pussy may not be covered in diamonds but it has to be pretty fucking good if Manoso's so hung up on her. 150,000 dollars? He's willing to blow 150,000 dollars on her to get her back? Fucking ridiculous…just like Helen Plum.

I honestly didn't want to involve her mother after what happened during that stupid phone call but I needed an inside man. I played on her sense of Burg tradition and got her on my side pretty easily. I had gone in expecting a fight. After all, she was still Cupcake's mom and I had done some stupid fucked up shit to her. Yet, Mrs. Plum was foaming at the mouth to help me out. She was sick of all the changes that everyone in her family was going through. Her mother had gone completely off the rails. Old Man Plum had rediscovered his balls and not only Cupcake but Little Miss Perfect Valerie was playing slut to Manoso and his thugs. I still remember that night at the club, the way that both sisters had gotten all high and mighty against me like they were Queens of the World instead of the stubborn stupid bitches that they were. What could they really have to offer men like Manoso and that so called doctor that Val was seeing? I mean, really?

So, anyway I had confided in Helen and she gave me the idea to take her out of the Trenton area. She had mentioned Point Pleasant or Atlantic City, places that she'd enjoy and relax in. At least that was her understanding. No one outside her little circle of friends understood Cupcake anymore and she had cut off all contact with her mother months ago, rattling the woman and me too, honestly. I mean, as much shit as Burg kids talked about their mothers, fathers, and families, at the end of the day, cutting them out and keeping them away from personal shit was out of the question. It just wasn't done!

The point is that I have a choice to make. There's no way that I can stay under the radar for much longer and they'll be coming after me. Everyone hates a dirty cop and Manoso…he's a fucking monster. I know it and he'll be all too happy to rip me to shreds for hurting his precious 'Babe'.

Do I stay here or do I run? If Helen Plum's mouth doesn't do me in, then Jeanne Ellen's will. Manoso's minions have got to know by now that she and I were in cahoots, not to mention Eddie and the other traitors at the precinct. There's supposed to be a brotherhood, a camaraderie as cops but ever since the murder rap, ever since Cupcake's little tell-all temper tantrum…

Do I stay or do I run? All this effort I put in, all the patience I showed, shouldn't it mean something?

There was a soft tap on my shoulder and as soon as I turned around, a very heavy lead pipe slammed into my face.

_**/**_

**Stephanie's POV**

Morelli had left the cell door ajar.

I don't know whether it was an accident or just a show of cockiness but it was an opportunity that I wasn't going to waste. Using a bobby pin from my still spilled Satchel, I went at the cuffs and was free in less than 2 minutes. I had wasted a little time with a quick Snoopy dance of victory and then stepped out. The son of a bitch had left my boots right outside the door and when I had them back on, I felt even more empowered. I was still kidnapped and still in danger from Morelli in many ways but still…I was free to fight or free to run.

It's a testament to how much I've changed that I didn't even hesitate to decide to stay and fight. And it wasn't just motivated by rage and revenge. When I made a run for it, I needed to have every advantage I could get and putting Morelli out of commission was top priority. My gun was missing, as were my daggers and tazer but I wasn't completely helpless. I could try to take him on hand to hand but I quickly 86'd that. I had training, good training but at the end of the day, Morelli had training of his own, was double my size and running on a full stomach, unlike myself.

I had downed the water he had brought me and ate the granola bar. I wasn't touching the sandwich. It may have been peanut butter and olive (giving me further proof that my mother was involved because other than my Dudes and Carlos and Mary Lou who'd never help him in a million years, only Helen knew that it was one of my favorite combos) but he may have put something in the middle of the sandwich. He had only taken a bite from the edges. Of course, he could've drugged the other rations but I had to risk it.

_Food is fuel, Babe. You need to stay hydrated and you need to have something in your stomach. Besides, it's highly unlikely that he'd drug you again. He wants to reason with you, to get you on his side and in his bed and to prove that he's not the Morelli scum that everyone says he is. Drugging you may be easier but it would do nothing for his ego. He wants you to break down and choose him…_

Never.

I'll die first.

_**He'll**_ die first.

Spotting a lead pipe on a work table, I picked up and slapped it on my palm like a Louisville slugger. It may be a cliche weapon (I used to hate playing Clue when I was a kid. I'm a Monopoly girl, all the way!) but it was a good weapon. A damned good weapon that Morelli really should've taken with him but hey, what are you going to do? He's a Morelli man and Morelli men are known for a lot of things. Brains ain't one of them.

And as the Mafioso whose skull I caved in proves, when I'm pissed off and I've got something heavy in my hand, someone can easily get David and Goliathed. Well, Stephanie and Goliathed.

You get what I mean.

Okay, Wonder Woman. It's time to go to work.

A big part of my training was on stealth. Sometimes you've got to get a little wily to get a skip and a good sneak attack should be under every self respecting Bounty Hunter's rolodex. And every woman's, too. Sneak attacks can not only be valuable for self defense but they can also be fun with the right person, especially if that right person is sexy and naked in the shower.

Yes, I'm speaking from experience and no, I am not ashamed.

Anyway, I've learned how to use shadows to my advantage and how not to make a sound while moving. Morelli was in the living room and I could hear him flipping through the news channels. People were looking for me. Carlos was looking for me and actually was putting up a hell of a reward for my safe return. Of course, to him 150K is chump change and I know that if push came to shove, he'd stick up Fort Knox for the money to get me back because I mean that much to him. He loves me. He needs me, he wants me, and he loves me.

And I'm gonna do whatever it takes to get back to him.

Once Morelli was watching the Rangers game, I made my move.

Tapping him on the shoulder was actually quite unnecessary. I could've just clocked him on the back of the head but I wanted him to see my face. I wanted him to see who is taking him down, who's making him suffer. I am a vengeful creature and damn it, he deserves a pipe to the face.

Morelli hit the floor with a bang and his mouth was bleeding, his nose and eyes swelling and darkening with bruises. When he stood up and took a wild swipe at me, I dodged and swung again, connecting with his torso and doubling him over in a coughing, wheezing state. I hit him in the back and he went down with a gurgling groan of pain. Spotting cuffs with a long chain and one of my daggers on top of the mantle, I put the pipe on the couch and cuffed both his wrists to the radiator, making sure hurt him while I did it. Once that was accomplished, I pushed him until he managed to sit up against the radiator and started cutting up one of the tarps to use as makeshift rope. I'm sure that there's some real rope around here someplace but I'm not going to risk leaving him alone until he's thoroughly secured.

"You stupid fucking crazy _**bitch!**_"

I ducked past the kick towards my head and after a quick punch to his precious Boys, managed to bind his lower legs together, complete with a festive looking bow.

"Shut the fuck up, now or I'll slit your motherfucking throat…_**Cupcake.**_"


	73. Chapter 73

**Author's Note: Y'all, I have had the week from Hell. On Monday, I hit my head hard at work and ended up with a minor but potent concussion. On Wednesday, I sliced my right index finger open to the quick (thankfully, I'm left handed or I would've been completely SOL) and yesterday, I twisted my ankle on the way to replace my headphones and now it's all swollen up like an orange. However, due to all of this and the long awaited, blessed Spring Thaw in my state, all the Muses are willing and able to play with me today. I'm very glad you guys enjoyed Stephanie rescuing herself (it's been a theme in this fic from the Jump) and all will be revealed soon. If necessary, I'll add more than 80 chapters but I think I can still make it work with 80. We shall see soon. **

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd _**_you_**_ get in?"_

"_**Picked the lock**__…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up.**__" _

-Ranger and Stephanie in One for the Money (2012)

* * *

><p><strong>Ranger's POV<strong>

The townhouse's front door opened slowly and every gun rose up in their owner's hands, primed and ready to shoot at a moment's notice. Hector was a godsend and my Babe was a genius. To hide a tracker in a mascara wand was her idea and his work extended the range twentyfold. He had come into the Precinct quietly but urgently, holding up the tablet for all to see. Instead of the usual icon, a white angel's halo hovered over the Brooklyn borough, which was appropriate. Stephanie was an angel to every person in RangeMan, to every person in my family, to me…_**angelita**_. It only took 10 minutes to pinpoint the exact address and with help from Eddie, a caravan of Company and TPD vehicles were on the road within a hour. When we crossed into NYC, we picked up help from the Feds and the NYPD. Apparently, the house had been under surveillance for months under suspicion of narcotics manufacturing and trafficking. The property belonged to a Laurence 'Nico' Nicoletti, a known footman for the Grizolli family, the same Grizolli family that Morelli has been 'investigating' for years through Terry Gillman.

When we first got to the neighborhood, we checked the old warehouse and found Nicoletti's car and body, along with the drug manufacturing area in a back room. Nicoletti had been moved post mortem to a laundry bin full of garbage bags but COD was obviously blunt force trauma. In his left hand was material from a torn pink and black polka dotted t-shirt, the same one Stephanie had been wearing when she kissed me goodbye this morning.

This morning…

Was it really this morning?

It feels like it's been so much longer.

Jesus, I need my Babe back. Where is she? Is she intact? Is she alive?

God, please let her be alive…

Underneath Nicoletti was a bloody steering wheel club and around Nicoletti's neck was Stephanie's favorite headband/garrote, the one with the silver skulls. That's my girl. She had come out swinging (literally) and got it done. Unfortunately, Morelli wasn't the sort to play fair or to use common sense. If I were in his position, after witnessing Nicoletti's demise, I would've let her go.

Of course, I would've left her alone after that incident with her Lock Shock. I freely admit that I'm a twisted and persistent son of a bitch but at the end of the day, no means no, especially if there's electricity involved. Anyway, footprints led outside and down the alleyway to the house where 2 people were confirmed to be inside. This was the place. This was my Babe's prison and hopefully, not a house of torment. Lula's words from earlier keep haunting me. Morelli has a chip on his shoulder the size of Texas. He's got an arrogance and sense of entitlement nurtured by the many destructive and idiotic forces in The Burg. He's used to getting whatever woman he wants and Steph's consistent, sound rejections of him, rejections in favor of a person that he deems beneath him yet can't compete with…whatever injuries he's inflicted on her will be given back tenfold…

"**Come out of the house,_ now!_**" a NYPD officer yelled. "**Put your hands up!**"

My knees nearly gave out in relief as Stephanie came out, both of her hands up. Her left sleeve was ripped and there were three stained band aids on her exposed bicep. A hand shaped bruise was on her left cheek and a little bit of blood dribbled from her cut lower lip and nose but…

As soon as she spotted me, she burst into tears and I put my gun down, meeting her on the sidewalk to embrace her. Whimpering, she rested her head on my shoulder and I picked her up, carrying her to where Santos, Tank, Eddie, and Brown were waiting. One of her arms reached for them and they surrounded us, Tank gently running his fingers through her tangled hair.

"Don't cry, Little Girl. We've got you._ You're safe, now_…"

"Where's Morelli, Steph? Is he still in there?" Eddie asked her gently as the house was stormed.

After pressing a shaky kiss to my neck, she wiggled free and accepted a handkerchief from her cousin by marriage.

"_Uh-huh. I…I hit him with a lead p-pipe in the face and th-then I cuffed him to the living room radiator. I tied him up, too. I gagged him with an old sock about an hour ago because he wouldn't shut up. He tried to bite me while I did it so I threw one of my daggers at him afterwards. It didn't hit him but it wedged in the wall right next to his head and now he's just sitting there. And he pissed himself_.", she rasped.

The news crews on the street went into a frenzy as a cowed and battered Morelli was hauled out of there in cuffs. His face was essentially one big bruise and he spat out one of his teeth into the grass, most likely an incisor. His white TPD shirt was stained with blood and dirt. There was a telltale stain on the front of his pale gray sweatpants and his head was bowed. After he was put in a cruiser, I walked to the car and he looked up at me with a look of pure loathing, mixed with terror.

All this time, I've come up with scenario after scenario of how I could kill him when I saw him again. I could snap his neck. I could cut his throat. I could disembowel him with my Bowie knife. I could shoot him in every joint…the possibilities are endless and yet…

"_He's not worth it, Carlos._"

Someone had wrapped her in a shock blanket and given her some water. Good. She must be dehydrated by now...

"He took you. He terrorized you. _He **hit** you_…"

Her injuries are actually pretty minor, all things considering but the sight of blood and bruises on Stephanie is absolutely unacceptable. Any man who can put his hands on a woman in anything but tenderness and respect deserves to be castrated. How could Morelli claim to care for her and then turn around and kidnap her? If he's supposed to be above his family's legacy, if he's supposed to be a man of honor, if he's supposed to be a cop that serves and protects others, then why is Stephanie here? Why is she hurt? What the living fuck is wrong with him that he could find all of this acceptable?

The tears falling from the man's face aren't from remorse about his thoughts and actions.

He's only sorry that he got caught.

Bastard.

Stupid, Stephanie hurting, motherfucking bastard…

Eddie got into the back of the cruiser with Morelli and I guided her away before she could witness anything. Morelli wasn't resisting arrest but the paperwork would show that he was. Although, I'm pretty sure that Steph's already done all the damage that can be done immediately.

Speaking from experience, there's much less satisfaction in deepening a bruise than there is in creating one.

"Actually, his buddy did all of this and I can walk it off. All right, he _**did**_ backhand me but that was after I spat blood and mucus in his eye.", she clarified a volume closer to her normal one.

"In his eye?"

"Dead center. It was totally gross yet awesome."

"Proud of you, Babe."

"I'm pretty proud of me too…let the system have him. Let the inmates have him. He told me while he was FTA that there's nothing worse than being a cop in jail. And nobody likes a woman beater."

Morelli's gaze shifted to her through the back windshield and he quickly looked away in response to something Eddie screamed at him, scooting as best as he could with cuffed hands away from the enraged man…

"Stephanie, did he…were you…"

I can barely bring myself to think about it, much less say it. Fortunately, Steph understood and gave me a reassuring smile, splitting her lip open further in the process.

"**No.** I know he thought about it but I guess what little decency he has left kept him in check. Or more than likely, he was deluded enough to think that he could make me want it, want**_ him._** Maybe in the past, in another life, I would've been with him but now…things are different. I grew up. I got brave. I met you…why would I go back to the way I was? I was a coward, a baby, and didn't want to fight for what I really deserved. I don't like the old me. I don't like her at all. I still don't understand why you did."

"I don't either but that's got nothing to do with you, Babe. I'm a fucked up person. I have been for years and I'm not very good with emotional matters."

"You seem pretty good at it to me."

"That's because it's you. There was nothing wrong with the old you, Stephanie."

"**_Car-los._**"

"There was nothing wrong with the old you that would stop anyone from loving you and caring for you."

"Better…have you guys found Jeanne Ellen, yet?"

"She's in the wind but she can't hide forever. If she were smart, she'd put at least one ocean and continent between herself and me. Although your wounds weren't inflicted by her in person, she helped put all of this together. She helped hurt you. She helped those pieces of shit kidnap you and I promised her if she came near you again, she was a dead woman. **I am a man of my word.**"

"Carlos, I don't want you killing anyone for me."

"If it happens, it happens. Usually, I'll find a different way to handle a situation but this isn't a typical situation. The woman I love was kidnapped and terrorized. Something must be done.", I replied firmly.

"I get it but please try and let the authorities handle it, okay? And I guarantee you that she's not going to run. She's getting ready to really fight for you. She's got nothing to lose, now. Everyone knows that she was involved in all this and the only options she has for her future are jail, the ICU, or the morgue. She wants a showdown and we should give it to her with both barrels."

"What are you suggesting, Babe?"

"I think we should draw her out. I think that we should do something so big and bold and overdue that she'll have no choice but to come out of hiding, if not just to do a Hail Mary move."

"What are you suggesting, Stephanie?"

"…_I think we should get married._"


	74. Chapter 74

**Author's Note: Well, my show finally went on hiatus and I was honestly glad to see it go. I need a good long and sensible break from seeing Shonda Rhimes' special patented fuckery live on my screen and the free time has been great for the Muses already. I'm glad that you guys enjoyed the initial rescue scene and the choice of CatWoman bait I came up with and I'm looking forward to tying all of the loose ends up. **

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd _**_you_**_ get in?"_

"_**Picked the lock**__…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up.**__" _

-Ranger and Stephanie in One for the Money (2012)

* * *

><p><strong>Helen's POV<strong>

"You know if you just plead out, I can probably get you probation with a mandatory stint in rehab."

"I'm not going to 'plead out'. I haven't done anything wrong. What's wrong with a mother trying to arrange an acceptable match for her daughter?"

"Nothing as long as things stay legal. Things didn't stay legal and when things don't stay legal, people have to go to jail. Your daughter could've been killed, Helen. She could've been raped and left there to die."

"Joseph would never such terrible things to her, now. He's changed so much and he's a good man, now."

"Good men don't plan and finance abductions. Your daughter's statement…"

"Stephanie would say any and everything to ruin his life! I raised her to be a good Catholic girl, even if she doesn't act like it now! Forgiveness is…"

"Everything that your daughter said matches Morelli's confession like a glove to hand and he has implicated you as one of his conspirators. Helen, I'm trying to help you here. There's only a limited window of time for you to get through this with minimal damage…"

The damage has already been done. My mother has disowned me. My husband is determined to divorce me, despite my being the mother of his 2 demented children. Valerie is still cavorting with that back alley quack and Stephanie…I could just strangle that girl. First, she decides to make a living chasing lowlifes and degenerates for pocket change. Then, she shows up to dinner looking like something from the seedy underbelly of New Orleans. She then decides to reject everything she grew up with, every value I did my very best to instill in her to live in sin with that Ranger creature and now…I was simply trying to fix one of her numerous mistakes. I wasn't trying to get her violated or killed, as everyone is just so certain that Joseph is capable of, I was trying to get her some respectability back, some grace. I know that everyone says that Joseph is no better than the Morelli men before him but I disagree. I know him, now. He has made something of himself…well, he _**had**_ before Stephanie got her hateful little claws in him. She owes him such an apology…

"I don't see what everyone is making such a fuss about. If anyone should be sitting in a jail cell, it's Stephanie. She murdered a man! She murdered _**two**_ men!"

"Both of those cases were in defense of herself and the people around her. Jimmy Alpha was not going to be taken alive and Mr. Nicoletti had kidnapped her, stuffed her in a trunk, and drove her to an abandoned, narcotic filled warehouse for 200 dollars. He didn't do that just because he wanted to talk to her and have a cup of tea. The whole situation was kill or be killed. Look, obviously you're not remorseful so I'm going to leave and prepare for your case. Do not say anything to anyone about this matter. Invoke your right to remain silent and have them call me if they want to interrogate you again."

I haven't done anything wrong, nothing to merit this sort of disrespect and disregard. Everyone's so focused on the 'what if's that they've forgotten the reality of the situation. Stephanie is fine and will be coming back to Trenton. Joseph may have lost his temper a bit but no one should blame him for that. Stephanie has been a constant test to my patience since the day she was born…

_**/**_

**Jeanne Ellen's POV**

I knew that the kidnapping would fail.

There were just too many inconsistencies, too many incompetent players in the game, and the whole Op had been engineered by a barely functioning, deluded alcoholic. The only way the kidnapping would've worked is if Morelli had killed Plum immediately instead of trying to convert her, reform her back to the traditions they grew up with. I honestly think that there's something in the water in The Burg and in the Trenton area as a whole. It would explain so much. I heard the 'breaking news alert' on the radio while I was driving and I shook my head while increasing my speed, heading for St. Louis. I have a safe flat there and once I settle in, I can regroup and plot my next move.

Although I have a substantial one day head start, the little RangeBoys and Ricardo are hunting for me like I'm a wild animal that needs to be put down. I hurt their precious little mascot and bed warmer so I need to pay in their eyes, in Ricardo's eyes. He promised that if I went near Plum again with intent to harm or intimidate, he'd kill me. Why she's still so damned special to him is beyond my understanding. Her looks have improved but overall, she's still rather plain and awkward looking, like she's barely past adolescence. She's gotten smarter and tougher but still, there are moments of immaturity and irrationality. She's a civilian, a trained and adequate civilian now but still a civilian. She doesn't know anything about the darkness that we have to endure, that we have to mete out in the name of the Greater Good…I suppose that's a boon for her. After all, how can one escape the demons if they don't have someone who doesn't understand them, if they don't have someone to chase them away with their innocence and naivety? They can't. Ever.

The Morelli Op was a mistake from the get-go. I shouldn't have gotten involved with him. I did it out of laziness. I could've easily found other ways to get the Intel I needed on Plum but I went with the most convenient source and with a guarantee of an easy (albeit inadequate) lay. Once I realized just how deluded and obsessed Morelli was, I should've ended the Op. I should've distanced myself from Trenton. Leaving the area was not an option but leaving town…well, it's all a moot point, now. I gambled on a glue factory stallion and I shouldn't be shocked at all that I lost. Ricardo's probably got that bitch plastered to his side and wrapped in bubble wrap. Before, there was a chance of Plum getting spooked and running away from the Commitment but that window was nailed shut. I saw the news coverage in a diner where I stopped to refuel. She had leaped into Ricardo's waiting embrace and clung to him like a baby koala, even as she gave her statements to the media. Her face was messy with blood and bruises but it was nothing major, nothing that Brown and a good shower and meal couldn't fix…

I'm either going to end up in prison or in the morgue.

I've never been so certain about my death before, even in the most brutal and intense times of my Ops circuit.

And surprisingly, I'm okay with the revelation.

After all, dead people walking have nothing to lose and can do whatever they want.


	75. Chapter 75

**Author's Note: 75 chapters for the Epic Fucking WIN! Thank you to everyone who has been reading, whether from the Jump or you're just joining in now and thank you for not giving up on this story, especially you, Margaret. The 80 chapter cap is still on for now (85 may be needed, especially if I get a bit more spicy with the honeymoon stuff) so we are homestretching, folks. Before we get into the Wedding and the inevitably bloody drama attached to it, it's time for some family fluff and some BABE tenderness. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd _**_you_**_ get in?"_

"_**Picked the lock**__…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up.**__" _

-Ranger and Stephanie in One for the Money (2012)

* * *

><p><strong>Stephanie's POV<strong>

"Oh, my sweet girl…"

I thought that I was too exhausted to cry anymore but as soon as Ella embraced me, tears fell from my eyes. I wasn't sobbing or even whimpering. After giving my statements to both the press and the police (and seeing for myself that Morelli was locked away like the animal he had become), I had gone mute. Carlos and the guys understood it. They had gone through high stress situations such as these before and I seem to be holding up well, all things considering. I'm not scared or angry, anymore. I'm just bone tired and very glad to be back where I'm supposed to be. Maybe I'm over the trauma or more than likely, I'm still in survival mode and once things truly calm down, I'll shatter like glass, I don't know.

I'm not looking forward to finding out the answer. I just want to go to bed…

"When you're ready, you come down to 6 and I'll cook you all of your favorites, sweetheart."

"Thank you, _**Tia**_ Ella. Could you please tell everyone on 5 that I'll see them in the morning? Tell them that I'm okay and I love them all and I just…I just need to sleep right now."

Ella nodded and pressed a tender kiss to my brow before retreating from our apartment. Our apartment…my home…our home…I sort of expected it to look different when I came back. I mean, _**I'm**_ different, now. The first time I came here, I was wide eyed and naive, innocent even. I was amazed at how neat and quietly luxurious everything was and ecstatic at the fact that Batman was letting me into his private spaces. Even before we got as close as we are now, I knew that Carlos had difficulties when it came to opening up to anyone. It makes sense, I suppose. He was in the Streets hard and then he went off to save the world doing God knows what in God knows where for the Army. Experiences like that don't mesh well with someone being an open book (especially if you've been entrusted with deep, dark governmental secrets like I'm 98% Carlos has at least twice) so the fact that he was tight lipped wasn't a surprise. It was a challenge. Despite my old ways of whining when the going got tough, at the end of the day, if there's a challenge issued, I'm gonna accept it and kick its ass, just like I did with Nicoletti and Morelli.

I still can't believe I managed to do it all. Two big, burly men had taken me and I got away with minor physical injuries. I killed one of them and pounded the other so badly that he's probably wishing he was dead right now. Well, no probably about it. For all the shit Eddie and Big Dog and the other folks in the Precinct give me, at the end of the day, all of them have love for me and knowing that someone had kidnapped me with intent to rape, especially one of their own…yep, I'm certain that Morelli's praying feverishly for death right now.

And I don't feel a lick of guilt about the matter. I don't care what Morelli or his very few supporters have to say about the matter. It's not my fault. It's _**not!**_ He claimed that I led him on during my pursuit of him as a Skip and I guess there's a ring of truth to that. It wasn't strategic leading on, it was just…it had been a long time since I was with any man. I had firmly put Carlos into the 'out of my league' box (shows how much I knew, huh?) and The Dick had done a _**Young Frankenstein**_ tap dance number on my overall self esteem and the very idea that a man could find me attractive. Morelli had actively flirted with me and I jumped on the attention.

Once I figured out that he was innocent of Carmen Sanchez's murder, I had softened towards him, gotten friendlier and flirtier. But, after the Shower Curtain…I think I had decided then and there to not give into him again. I mean, he cuffed me to a fucking shower rod and then left me there naked to hang. What kind of man does that? There's nothing wrong with a bit of friendly ball busting between people but that was just too much. Seriously, what kind of man does shit like that and then laughs about it afterwards?

Real men don't do those sorts of things.

Fucking bastard.

Motherfucking, immature, arrogant ass, stupid ass bastard.

I fucking hate him. He's not worthy of the energy it takes to hate someone but I can't help it.

I fucking hate him and he deserves to burn in hell.

I can't**_ believe_ **I ever considered letting him back into my life and my bed!

What the fuck was wrong with me?

Furthermore, what the fuck is wrong with him and why didn't I see it before all this shit happened?

Why hadn't I seen it when I was 16?

Was I really that stupid or was he better at hiding his own Morelli man ways back in the day?

Maybe both…most likely, both.

I'm glad that I grew up finally.

I'm glad that my Morelli fixation is not only dead but obliterated.

I'm glad he's locked up.

_**So**_ glad.

He can stay locked up forever.

He needs to stay locked up forever.

Plus, like I told Morelli in that townhouse, the fact that Carlos had come and rescued me without expecting anything in return (even though he and I both knew that I'd have given it to him if he wanted it)…I had chosen Carlos in my heart right then and there. I just needed my brain and my hormones to catch up and I thank God that they did before it was too late…

It could've easily been too late.

"Babe?"

"Yeah?"

"I drew you a bath. Brown said that it wouldn't aggravate your injuries and…"

"I would like nothing more than a bath. Well, one thing more."

"Whatever it is, I'll get it, Babe."

"Join me."

_**/**_

**Ranger's POV**

Now that all of the blood and dirt is off of her body, I can see the true extent of her injuries.

The hand shaped bruise is darkened but thanks to Brown's bruise balm, it's beginning to shrink. There's a blend of Neosporin and Vaseline on her lips so as much I would like to kiss her, I'm going to wait until the cut scabs over and even afterwards. There are faint bruises on her wrists from where she manipulated the handcuffs to escape them and there's a raised knot of a bruise on her left shin, indicating that she had fallen hard at least once during her ordeal. My brave Babe…

She had handled herself well, better than any of us could've expected. I'm not saying that Steph is incapable nor am I saying that she doesn't have Skills but at the end of the day, she is still a civilian. She's still fresh to the World that I've had over 15 years to get used to. She knew the dangers. She had learned how to operate under high stress situations from us but until one is actually in the field, actually in the experience, it's impossible to determine how one is going to react.

Stephanie had done well. She had found ways to eliminate half of the threat to her safety and managed to hold off the other half until help could get to her, until I could get to her…

I'm just glad we found her.

I'm just glad that she's back in my arms.

With a soft sigh, she turned around and rested her head on my chest, embracing me. I've never used this tub before without being injured myself and certainly not while being surrounded by an avalanche of lavender and jasmine scented bubbles. Brushing some of her curls away from her brow, I pressed a tender kiss to her brow and she shifted closer in response.

"_I_ _could hear you. I could hear you in my head when I was gone. It kept me calm._ _You were telling me what to do to give myself an advantage and you gave me strength. I knew that you would find me._"

"I love you."

"_I love you too, Carlos__**. Always.**_"

"I like your plan, Babe. I just wish that I wouldn't have to shoot anyone at our wedding."

"_If anyone's shooting the stupid, bottle blonde bitch, it's me._"

"To kill?"

"_Most likely._"

"Good."


	76. Chapter 76

**Author's Note: It's been forever and a day and for that I sincerely apologize. It's been a blend of procrastination, other fics, and as I mentioned to Margaret, a distinct lack of Muse for the fandom for anything other than reading other people's stuff. I've read some really amazing BABE stuff lately and I kinda felt like that scene in **_**Lilo and Stitch**_** when Stitch tries to make an awesome sandcastle and it's just a pile of sand but he still keeps on trying and…yeah. But as I also said to Margaret, I really hate the idea of leaving such a long and enjoyed fic unfinished (especially when there are less than 5 chapters to go) so I'm going to push on and give it my best. Thank you for your patience.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd _**_you_**_ get in?"_

"_**Picked the lock**__…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up.**__" _

-Ranger and Stephanie in One for the Money (2012)

* * *

><p><strong>Two Months Later…<strong>

**Jeanne Ellen's POV**

While there are a variety of jobs out there with a variety of individuals doing a variety of things, one common denominator for all of it is Gossip. Candy floss gossip, Op gossip, shooting the shit and talking it gossip…humans are a curious bunch. We want to know everything there is to know about everyone, thing, and where that we interact in. We want to know for various reasons. Protection, blackmail, entertainment…

They're getting married.

Ricardo and his bumbling bitch are actually getting married.

Is she pregnant? That was how he got shackled to someone last time but if she was, then wouldn't he do what he did with the mother? Wouldn't he just send money and let another man raise the brat? He always said that his life didn't lend to relationships, that marriage and babies were stupid ideas, and that…

They're getting married. Stephanie Plum is going to marry him and I'm thinking that this is a trap. They're dangling bait in front of me, seeing if I'll bite. As I expected, Morelli named me as a conspirator in his little kidnapping operation and there's a warrant out for my arrest. Once I failed to appear in court, the official bounty on my head is at 400,000 dollars but it increased to 600,000 in the Circle on the condition that I'm brought to Ricardo and his little RangeBoys alive. They want to rip me apart for hurting their precious little Stephanie and Ricardo promised to kill me at that stupid fucking wedding that he paraded her around at. Wedding…I'm sure that it's a trap to pinch me. As guarded as he is, Ricardo wouldn't let people know what was going on in his private life without an ulterior motive.

It's a brilliant move and one that even though everything in me says to, that I can't resist. I have to see it for myself. I have to see him throw his life away live and in person. He'll either throw it away by shooting me in cold blood in front of dozens (or knowing how obscenely big his family is, hundreds) of witnesses or he'll throw it away by marrying that…that…I can't even describe Stephanie Plum, anymore. The fact that she's still even a player in the Game, the fact that Ricardo has given her _**everything**_…

With a ragged sigh, I drain the last of my morning smoothie and pick up my board. When I first got to Hawaii, the first thing I did was cut and dye my hair into a jet black long pixie. The second thing I did (after securing the perimeter and booby trapping my for lack of a better word, hideout) was to buy a bundle of bikinis and a surfboard. I had always wanted to learn how to surf when I was a little girl, despite my growing up in rural Wyoming. I had a lot of dreams like that. I wanted to be a doctor, I remember, a plastic surgeon to be more specific.

I would help people who were horrifically injured heal their physical wounds and I'd live by the ocean…enlisting had been a means to that end. While my mother and I weren't in abject poverty, there was no way that college would be paid for. I had placed well in my high school class but not enough for any real money. So, off I went to the Army and ended up going into Dark Ops. I was 'exceptional', according to the Powers that Be. 'The perfect weapon', I had been called on more than one occasion. I had brains, I had brawn, and I had beauty. I was willing to do whatever it took to accomplish my missions, to be the best, to be feared, to be respected…

I had given up the best years of my life in service to my country, sacrificed so much innocence and what do I really have to show for it?

I have more blood money than I could ever spend and a near million dollar bounty on my head because of a fixation on a man who never even considered me as a worthy woman to warm his bed, much less his heart.

It's utterly pathetic.

If I were a sensible woman, I would stay away from Trenton on Friday and in general.

If I were a sensible woman, I'd pick up and relocate again, maybe to Thailand or New Zealand or Tahiti, someplace warm and lush with life.

If I were a sensible woman, I'd let the whole thing drop or even turn myself in. Get it over with.

But, like many things, sense and objectivity when it comes to Ricardo has died within me.

I don't even care anymore.

I'll be at the wedding.

I'll give them all exactly what they want.

The Plum-Manoso nuptials are going to be a day to remember.

One way or another, it'll be a day to remember.

_**/**_

**Stephanie's POV**

I never thought that I'd get married again.

And if anyone said that not only would I get married again but the marriage would be my idea without my being pregnant or blackmailed first, I would've laughed in their face until I peed my pants.

Or I would've just punched them in the face and ran away like a spooked deer.

One and done, I vowed. Marriage wasn't for everyone and it obviously, it wasn't for me. Part of it was my admittedly terrible taste in men at the time but it was mostly because I didn't think I had what it took to be a good wife. I couldn't cook. I only cleaned when I got sick of looking at the mess and the idea of popping out babies made me break out in a cold sweat. The Dick had barely let the ink on the marriage license dry before knocking one out of the park with Joyce and he had only been sorry because I made him sorry. To this day, he can't get work in Jersey and he had to relocate to a public shyster's office in Philly to start all the way over. Fucker. He got what he deserved, just like Morelli.

Karma not only kicked them in the balls, she chopped them off and used her mother's old stuffed peppers recipe to serve them to them on a silver platter.

It's become a pattern with my exes…well, an ex and a pseudo ex mistake…they end up fucked up and over at least twofold from what they do to me. I guess it's her way of throwing me a bone after the dust dies down. Like she's saying, 'hey, yeah…about that guy that crashed into your life that I didn't save you from? Yeah…well, even though you didn't win the big deal behind Door #2, here's a lovely consolation prize of their lives and reputations being ruined forever! Love ya, mean it, bye…' or something along those lines.

Carlos better watch his ass.

Of course, that would mean that he would hurt me and I know that he would never, not on purpose and not in a way that I wouldn't like.

My safe word is 'bulls-eye', by the way.

Anyway, here I am. I'm standing in front of a semi-circular row of full length mirrors in a white wedding dress and I'm…happy. I'm standing and twirling around to watch the gown hem fly and giggling in a wedding dress. I'm wearing an actual wedding dress that actual women would wear instead of being stuffed into a tulle and taffeta monstrosity that makes me look like a cream puff or Little Bo Peep without her sheep.

The dress is ankle length and it has a sheer illusion neckline with flowers and vines that look like a swirling henna/paisley pattern that stopped at the bust line. The bridal shop owner said that the style of dress was called a trumpet and I like it. I like the way it hugs my curves before going out in a flattering way, a fun way. This is a dress that I can walk in. This is a dress that I can dance in. My last wedding dress was so uncomfortable that dancing was out of the question, not that I really wanted to. God, I was so miserable on that day. Mary Lou had to sneak me a bottle of 1800 before I could even think of cracking a smile and…well, it doesn't matter anymore.

The whole cluster with The Dick is the past. We're in the present, now and presently, I am happy with and loved by Ricardo Carlos Manoso and I want to be his wife. I know that I can be his wife and be damned good at it, regardless of whether I cook, clean, or pop out babies.

I can do the first two very well now and the last one…

As long as the baby (babies) is (are) Carlos' and he'll stick by me, then I'm up for it.

"It's perfect, Steph. You look so good…" Mary Lou sighed with a dreamy smile playing at her lips.

"Batman's gonna lose his shit when he sees your fine self coming down the aisle, White Girl. Hell, he might just jump you and marry you Nat Geo Wild style. Tankie and I were watching this thing on lions the other day and they don't give a fuck. They'll just hook up and pair off in front of everyone…"

"Don't give him the idea, Lula. He's chomping at the bit to marry me and I want it too. I just…I never thought that I'd want to get married again or that anyone decent would want to marry me."

"Because of that stupid bitch." Connie grumbled before smiling at the way she looked in her bridesmaid dress.

The bridesmaid dresses are ankle length like my gown and a rich shade of purple with a bateau neckline, leaving the shoulders exposed and everyone's…assets on full yet tasteful display. Unlike other brides, I wasn't going to use my powers for evil and make my friends look like shit just to elevate my own look. I didn't need elevating and I want everyone involved in this to-do to look and feel their very best.

'The stupid bitch' is Helen Mazur. Although Morelli eventually scraped together enough sense to plead guilty (and Burrows made like a banana and split), my mother decided to try and make everyone 'see reason' and go to trial with a not guilty plea. Her defense attorney managed to keep her out of jail but she ended up being sent to a mental institution for at least 3 years. Initially, she had been in a minimum security facility near Long Island but that hadn't lasted very long. Apparently, the news of my impending nuptials to Carlos paired with the finalization of her divorce sent her into such a rage that she assaulted two orderlies before going catatonic. Now, she's been transferred to a maximum security facility in Maine and she's not allowed to have visitors, not that anyone really wants to see her.

"Partially but I just…I didn't feel like I was normal and worthy enough before. Now, I do."

And that makes all the difference in the world.

I'm getting married again.

I am happily getting married again.

I can't wait to get married again. I can't wait to be Carlos' wife, to be Stephanie Plum-Manoso.

Even if I do end up shooting a certain someone in the head before we cut the cake.


	77. Chapter 77

**Author's Note: Hello, everyone. There are a few more chapters (3-5) and an epilogue to go and I'm both happy and sad about it. Although my Muses have become 98% SCANDAL-ous (despite the utter bullshit the show itself has become), Steph and Ranger have a cherished place in my heart, as does this story. Thank you all for your ongoing support and deep patience with me with updating. **

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd _**_you_**_ get in?"_

"_**Picked the lock**__…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up.**__" _

-Ranger and Stephanie in One for the Money (2012)

* * *

><p><strong>2 Days Before the Wedding…<strong>

**Steph's POV**

"What's the matter, Val? You've been quiet lately."

"…I miss Mom. I know that she's been terrible to all of us. I know that she helped that Morelli trash kidnap you. I know that she made sure to drive wedges between us but…you're getting married to someone great. You're getting married to someone who loves all of you for you and…I just wish that she could be here to see it. I wish that she had been able to take her head out of the sand and see the good that's in you and Carlos and all of us. I just…it's stupid."

"No, it's not. She's our mother and you still love her."

"Do you?"

"I…in a basic, she pushed me out way, yes but in the ways that a daughter should love her mother, respect her mother, no. She and I were never that close to begin with but what happened with Morelli was the straw that broke the camel's back."

"She wasn't all bad, you know. She used to…well, at least she was warm and nice to me. Probably because I'd always do what I was told and what was 'proper' in the Burg's eyes. She and I were close but looking back on it, it wasn't in a healthy kind of way. She wanted someone that she could mold in her image and I was it. She didn't love me for me. She loved me because of who she shaped me to be, who I willing to be."

I absorbed that and nodded slowly in agreement. Now that Helen is away from us, I can look back on things and see the truth. I always used to comfort myself by saying that the nagging was her way of showing that she cared but it was actually an attempt to control me, to break me down. Dad had gone along with her wishes in the interest of peace but I never really thought about why Val did. I just figured that it was what she wanted. I thought that she wanted to be a Burg housewife and to marry a nice local boy (or a rich one from nearby) so she could pop out babies and exchange recipes with the others. But, I was wrong. Unlike me, Val was open to the idea of being a family woman but as I get to know her now, I realized that she had other dreams, big dreams that she never thought would happen.

My big sister wants to fly just as badly as I do.

The revelation was earthshaking but what else is new with me? Every day, I'm learning something new about myself, about my family, about who I really am and who I really want to be. Anyway, all of the resentment and bitterness I had against Val is gone. I mean, sometimes I'll still refer to her as St. Valerie but it's in a teasing way, just like she calls me The Bombshell Bounty Hunter but we're sisters. She's my big sister and I love her. I'm her crazy little sister and she loves me. Anyone coming after one gets the other's wrath and while Val isn't too good with a gun (yet…), she's got a Nutcracker Knee like mine and a head butt that will lay you _**out**_.

Joyce learned that the hard way. Val had decided get a pixie bob haircut for the wedding (which looks awesome, by the way…) and some highlights play up her blonde locks. Grandma came with her to the Clip n Curl and Joyce had been there getting her hair dyed into a tacky shade of red to go with her tacky personality. Anyway, Joyce had decided to give her opinion on just what's been going on with the family and more specifically, me and the bitch had basically said that she wished that Morelli had killed me so that she could get her claws into Carlos. I was a waste of space, anyway and terrible in bed, according to her reliable sources so who cared?

Val cared.

A lot.

Grandma had tried to hold her back but Joyce got right in her face and what I heard, spat on her.

No one should spit on anyone, ever. It's disrespectful and gross, especially if you've got animal and Vinnie ick in your system like Joyce does.

So, Val calmly stood up from her dryer, gave Joyce a big sweet smile, and _**bam!**_

According to my gleeful sources (Connie and Lula), the vinyl clad vixen went down in a heap and had to be carried out by two off duty paramedics…while she wore knock off La Perla underwear that had more holes in them than Swiss cheese.

Karma's a bitch.

Joyce's nose is broken and she still looks like a raccoon. She's hiding behind shades and a movie star scarf but everyone can still see the bruises and the splint across the bridge of her nose.

Well, you know what they say.

Talk shit, get hit.

Go, Val, go…

"Helen is who she is, Val. She made her decisions. You don't have to be like her if you don't want to."

"Most of all, I don't want to be all alone like her. I am absolutely terrified of ending up all alone like her. She had a husband, two daughters, and a mother who loved her and she threw us all away because of pride and tradition. I don't want to be like her. I mean, I do enjoy cooking and a messy house gives me a migraine but other than that, I want to be her polar opposite. I want to be happy. I want to stay with my family."

"Even though it's completely insane?"

"Especially because it's completely insane. We Plums may be nuts but we've got a lot of love amongst us and all of Carlos' family…they're really nice. Huge but nice. They're good people, Stepphie and they love you for you. That's…that's what I always wanted for you, you know? I used to think that someone in the Burg could be it for you, which is why I didn't fight with mom like I should've but…I wanted you to be happy."

"I am, Val. And you and Bobby seem to be pretty solid."

"Yeah. I…I know that I'm not ready to get married again yet but when I am, I'd like to be with him."

"Bobby's a good man."

"All of the RangeMen are."

"You really think so?"

"Mm-hm. They scared me at first but once I got to know them, they're all really sweet. Some of them are really lonely, though."

"Yeah. Like you said, on the surface, they're intimidating as fuck and not everyone can be open minded so they can get to the real."

That sad fact was a source of deep aggravation for me. While Carlos is the love of my life, all of the RangeMen or Merry Men as I've started to call them are precious to me. They are my friends and they are good men. They can be a little rowdy sometimes and a little off (given what many of them saw and endured while serving their country, they're entitled to be a little off) but overall, they're wonderful. They help to protect the innocent ones in our community and they help keep the scum and the bad kind of crazies off of the streets. Yet, they're shied away from. They're seen as mindless thugs or bed warmers, a fun little bad boy fling to cross off of the bucket list. It's just so unfair…

"Well, it's their loss and it's m…Helen's loss, too."

"You can still call her mom if you want to. I don't mind if you do."

"She hasn't been a mom to me in a long time and she never was to you, Stephanie. A real mother supports her children. A real mother builds them up, not tears them down. A real mother accepts who her children as who they really are, not who she wants them to be. A real mother wants their children to be happy with whomever they choose to be with. Helen Mazur isn't a real mother."

"She's a good lesson, though. Don't let it happen to you."

"I won't. And if things start looking that way with my girls, promise me that you'll shoot me."

"I promise, Val."

"Don't kill me, though."

"I won't."

"Good. Want to go get some Tastykakes?"

"When _**don't**_ I?"


	78. Chapter 78

**Author's Note: I'm not feeling well. Physically and mentally, I feel tired. In order to take my mind off of it, I'm writing. Thank you for your patience, your kindness, and the continued support of this story. **

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p><strong>1 Day before the Wedding…<strong>

**Steph's POV**

"May I talk with you?"

A visibly uncomfortable Angela Morelli was standing in front of me at The Juicy Pineapple (a raw juice/smoothie shop that opened next door to the Fitness Center), an uncharacteristically silent Grandma Bella on her right. Usually, the old crow would be speaking in thick Sicilian accented English and cursing anyone who looked at her wrong with her (in)famous Eye but she was quiet as a mouse. She was dressed in a floor length black dress, a black wrap and had a pillbox fascinator on her head, also black with a thick gauzy veil in front of her face. Mrs. Morelli was also in black and I suppose I can't blame them for that. They were still in mourning over Morelli's incarceration and their subsequent scouring by The Burg.

I've been on the receiving end of wagging busybody tongues and furtive, scolding/pitying looks since the Garage Roof Incident so I know how to handle it. I never tried to justify myself to the masses, only to Helen, and that rarely worked so I went with the old tried and true, 'ignore it and it'll go away' method with a sprinkle of Denial Land for texture. "This too shall pass" and all that good shit…

It also helped that someone else would screw up bigger in a couple of days, shifting their attention elsewhere but Morelli…no one could ever top what he did. Even if I blew up 100 cars in one day, even if Vinnie porked the entire pig pen at the petting zoo, even if Joyce got caught in a backseat foursome with Young Father Kowalski, a strawberry cheesecake, and Vinnie, it still wouldn't come close to topping his fuck up. He had meticulously planned and executed a kidnapping. He had gotten fully in bed with the Mob. Someone had leaked the pictures of my cell in New York so everyone knew that if he had the chance, he would've forced himself on me. He had been a Detective and lost his rank due to his own booze soaked hubris and raging unrequited hard-on for The Walking Disaster AKA The Bombshell Bounty Hunter AKA Mrs. Ranger AKA Me. Joe Morelli's name was mud until the end of time around here and I can't say that I feel bad for him personally.

Karma's a bitch. It sucks that his mom and grandma are casualties but I **_really _**do not want to be bothered with them at all right now It's the day before my wedding, the wedding to the right man at the right time (sans the inevitable shooting and/or stabbing I'll have to do to a certain _**blonde**_…) and I don't want them to kill my vibe!

"I'm meeting up with…"

"Please, Stephanie? It will only take a moment."

Well…I guess it can't hurt to hear her out.

Whatever badness and bullshit they heap on me will be demolished underneath the weight of the sheer awesomeness of my being married to Carlos.

Bring it on, hags…

Taking my large 'Green Machine' (Greek vanilla yogurt, almonds, kiwi, kale, banana, apple, and strawberry with a shot of agave syrup) smoothie outside, I sat on the hood of the Cayenne in a lotus and waited patiently for her to get her words together. What could she possibly have to say to me, anyway? Did she want to blame me for what happened again? It wasn't my fault. It truly wasn't and while it's a drunken racehorse pisser that Morelli's in the hoosegow on legitimate charges, especially since he had managed to do good for himself for a while, I'll not take on an ounce of blame for the situation.

"I…what Joseph did to you, what Joseph wanted to do to you was inexcusable. In the past, I gave the blame and shame to you because I was unwilling to acknowledge that my youngest baby, my Heart had turned out to be just as skewed and twisted as the Morelli men that came before him. I was wrong to do that. I was wrong to dismiss his dalliances with you and other girls in the neighborhood as boys being boys…when you wrote your book, it forced me to see what he had become and that…that broke my heart. I came to your Cousin Vincent's place to attack you and was rightfully turned away. I…I'm sorry, Stephanie. I am truly sorry for the pain that my Joseph caused you and for not…I failed him. I was his mother and I failed him."

Wow.

Really?

Jeez…

"It's not your fault, Mrs. Morelli. You did the best you could…"

She really did, I have to admit. She was in a very shitty situation. She was surrounded by bullies and had been a punching bag for the majority of her adult life to someone who had sworn in front of God to cherish and love her as if she were his own flesh. The fact that she didn't kill any of the Morelli pseudo-men or herself throughout the years is a testament to her own strength.

And as my own relationship with my mother shows, no amount of motherly guidance (nagging…) can change a child's mind from their chosen path unless the child is open to changing. I hadn't been open to it and neither had Morelli, much to his detriment.

Fortunately for me, contrary to popular belief, my defiant marching to the beat of a different drum didn't get me knocked up, locked up, or killed before I hit 20.

"I suppose you're right. The apology still stands, though and I wish you all the best with Mr. Manoso."

"Thank you."

Grandma Bella stepped forward and I looked at her warily as she rested a soft hand on my lower abdomen, murmuring a soft, actually sweet tone.

"What's she…"

"It's an old country blessing on your marriage and for you to have strong, good sons."

Oh. Okay, then. It's definitely better than the goddamned Eye or some other exciting hex upon me. And with my track record with marriage, I need all the help I can get.

Once Bella was done chanting, she pressed a soft kiss to my brow and tugged on her daughter in law's sleeve impatiently, reminding me of M.A. now or me back in the day.

"Goodbye, Stephanie."

"Goodbye…"

Both women walked down the hill towards the Burg and I got in the car, driving past them towards my father's house. My father's house…I'm still getting used to referring to it that way. Gram's living it up as a 'sultry swingin' sister' in my old apartment and Helen is institutionalized for the foreseeable future. Since the house was paid off long ago and still sound, it made no sense for dad to leave. He had done some deep spring cleaning and redecorating (in a manly way…) but overall, it was still pretty much home, only with curtains that never felt the steam of the iron and dinner on a smaller scale.

Yes, my dad can cook. Like seriously cook. Gourmet chef, Ella cook and when he had asked Val, Gram, and I to come over for dinner a week after Helen was taken away, instead of take out, we had eggplant parmesan, sauteed leafy greens, and angel food cake. Now, he was hosting lunch for us and Carlos' immediate relatives. More Guzmans and Manosos were in town but the house could only hold so many people comfortably without all hell breaking loose in the special Plum family way.

As in the hell that causes legends to be born ala the Great Chicago Fire.

Good thing we don't have a cow or an oil lamp to knock over.

We just have Gram.


	79. Chapter 79

**Author's Note: Good afternoon, everyone. Here's a life hack: if you want someone to do something for you, then don't be a jerk**_**. I write for me.**_** I write whatever I want to write whenever I want to write it. I share my writings with others because I **_**want**_** to. Being a condescending, disrespectful jerk in my PM box (yeah, I'm fucking talking to **_**you**_**) doesn't motivate me to do anything but delete the whole story and shut down my PM option, if not my FFN account entirely. I have alternate locations for my stories (due to the Purge of three summers ago…) and I get aggravated enough in the real world. I am _not_ going to put up with it doing something that I truly love. Not if I don't have to. Fortunately for the rest of you patient and respectful people, Margaret/Lucy reached out to me before I saw the message (she's pretty much our Guardian Angel around these BABE fanfic streets and I love her to death both on here and off the site) and it's helped keep my perspective. I was working on this update, anyway. I'll be capping this story at 85 chapters.**

**I understand that it's been a long time and you've been invested in this story, which is awesome but I have a life outside of my writing, a complicated life with a job, preparation for school in spring, a family, and my own brain loving to turn against me at random times to make me miserable and as useful as a wet rancid noodle. And yes, my Muses have been concentrated in one place. No, I'm not going to apologize for it. If you've run out of patience with me and my **_**ways**_**, then feel free to unfollow me without being a condescending, disrespectful jerk. Have a nice day.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p><strong>The Night Before the Wedding…<strong>

**Steph's POV**

I know that it's tradition for the Bride and Groom not to see each other before the ceremony but I'm telling that tradition to kiss my ass.

Getting away from the girls and Carlos' sisters hadn't been easy but thankfully, I had an ally in the form of a very pregnant, very beautiful, and very awesome Calliope. She had been the bartender for the evening and made sure that the pitchers of sangria and margarita got steadily more potent as the night marched on. Instead of hitting a strip club or the dance floor, we had decided to have a big slumber party at Grandma Mazur's. We watched **Ghostbusters**, **Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion**, and we had been in the middle of **Robin Hood: Men in Tights** when my sentries fell asleep. Gram had put in a large chalkboard memo wall and I had written a note letting them know where I would be in the morning next to an impressive rendering of Channing Tatum's torso.

Who knew that my Gram was such an artist?

Anyway, Calliope had dropped me off at Haywood and I had scrambled the cameras as I made my way to the elevator. Since I had decided that I'd be with Carlos by the end of the night, I hadn't drank nearly as much as the gang but it was enough for me to have a good buzz going and a deep coil of need in my lower belly. I texted Lester who told me that they still had Carlos at Shorty's but I knew that he'd be back soon, especially once it came out that I had ditched my party…

…and I was right.

The clink of his fob and keys (and probably a knife) entering the silver dish near the door made me sit up and draw the sheet around me like a shift. I thought about putting on a slinky little nightie or at least a pair of panties but Carlos has made it clear that he likes it best when I'm naked, especially when I'm horny. Which I am. Desperately so…

"Babe."

Carlos had forgone his usual uniform of all black everything and put on a t-shirt the same shade of purple as my last name (until tomorrow, anyways), dark gray cargo pants, black Doc Marten shitkickers, and a black leather bomber jacket. His hair was wild from the windy evening and whatever back slapping, shit talking, noogie giving hijinks his _**hermanos **_had done with him during their party. Their stripper free party, I was pleased to hear from Hal. Not that I'm worried. Carlos has made it clear that he doesn't do anything or anyone that he doesn't want to do (take that, CatWoman!) and that I'm the only woman for him. Still, the very idea of a bunch of scantily clad broads trying to grind up on my man's enough to make me see red and when I see red, people get dead.

Ooh, that rhymed! I must be tipsier than I thought…

"C'mere…" I urged while giving him my best 'come hither and do me' look.

Carlos being Carlos didn't immediately pounce on me. Oh, no. He took his sweet time getting undressed and joined me in bed with a smirk playing at his luscious lips. Can a man's lips be luscious? I think they can be luscious but it's me and I'm drunk so probably normal people will reject the concept. Said lips pressed hard against mine and I could taste tequila and lime, indicating that great minds truly do think alike. Although, knowing him as I do, he didn't even bother with the margarita mix. A low growl rumbled in his chest as I opened the sheet and closed it around both of us, making us into a burrito of love…or would it be a taquito? Hmm…

A jagged sound that may have been a moan escaped me as Carlos plunged hard and fast into me, obviously as needy as I was. The sheet was eventually discarded to give us more range of motion and I was doing my best to keep up with him but…did I mention how much I adore drunk and horny Carlos? Because I truly do…

Abruptly, I ended up on top of him and I let my hips roll slowly as my whole body quivered, delighting in the way he licked his lips, the way his head fell back against the pillows as I braced my hands on his chest…

"_**Toma lo que quieras, mi amor ... nos hacen sentir bien**_ ..." ("Take what you want, my love…make us feel good…)

Gladly, Mr. Manoso.

Very, very gladly, Mr. Manoso…


	80. Chapter 80

**Author's Note: Hi, everybody. Thank you all for your positive and encouraging reviews (and your emails, Margaret) and for your patience. I had to step back from the fandom for a little while but I'm back and ready to get this party started and this story finished soon. 4 more chapters plus an epilogue to go, hang in there with me, and enjoy the latest. Have a good one!**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p><strong>The Wedding pt. 1<strong>

**Ranger's POV**

"...un-fuckin'_-__**believable**__…"_

"What would've been un-fuckin'-believable is if this didn't happen, Tank. I do wish that this view was the other way around, though. I had enough of seeing this _**pendejo**_'s naked ass in the breeze when we were growing up."

"And on that note, I'm going back down to 5. Get them awake without pissing them off enough to shoot you."

Some of the discarded bedding landed over my lower half and I hissed at the abrupt opening of the blinds, bringing daylight into the bedroom. Steph whimpered after I rolled off of her and I heard her draw the flat sheet around herself as she sat up. The bed creaked audibly as she climbed out and I made a note to have Luis take a look at the frame while we're on our honeymoon. With the way we went at it last night, I wouldn't be surprised if some screws came loose. The blinds were lowered and I let out a soft moan of relief at the dimmed room.

It takes a lot to get me wasted enough to be hungover and I definitely accomplished it last night. There had been tequila shots, a bottle of Jack, and Cal had brought out some of his moonshine for the occasion. Unlike most men during their bachelor parties, though, I was drinking out of joyful anticipation and celebration. I never thought that I would get married again nor did I ever think I'd ever find someone that I truly loved but my Babe…she's everything. She's my heart and the fire in my life. Sometimes the fire is literal but that's okay. That's why the fire extinguisher and insurance companies were invented. Stephanie Plum is my Soulmate and by the end of the day, she'll be Stephanie Plum-Manoso…

"Les, what the hell are you doing in here?"

"It's your wedding day, horny lovebirds and your pulling a Houdini on your ladies was so not cool, Young Lady. You had them ready to call in the SWAT team…"

"I left them a note. Well, we're up now so get the fuck out, Cousin. It's a quarter to 7 and the wedding isn't until 2. Come back in 2 hours and not without breakfast."

"Just 2 hours? Are you sure you want to settle for that for the rest of your life, Beautiful?"

"_**Nothing**_ I do with Carlos counts as settling. Now, seriously…get the fuck out."

"Mmkay. The Cure and some aspirin are in the kitchen."

"Bless your little deviant heart. Now, get out and don't slam the door on the way out."

"Ruin my fun, why don't you…"

Keeping my eyes shut, I listened as Steph went into the kitchen and soon, the smell of French fries wafted into my nostrils. Slowly, I opened one eye and saw a straw at my lips. There's probably something very sugary in that cup but since it's our wedding day, I'm willing to indulge. Accepting the straw, I took a deep pull of the Coke and let her feed me a small bundle of the large McDonald's fries. Two aspirin were next and I slowly sat up, hoping that the RPG explosions in my skull would stop enough for me to say good morning or at least kiss her…

"When you're ready, you can join me in the shower." she purred before dropping the sheet and sashaying nude into the bathroom.

I'm ready, now.

_**/**_

**Steph's POV**

"_She's so calm…maybe a little too calm…_"

"_She snuck out and got dicked down by her Batman until the break of dawn, girl…she's probably still having Doomsday aftershocks…_"

"_We should go get Val…_"

Rolling my eyes fondly at Mary Lou and Lula's badly whispered conversation, I turned back to the full length mirror after the door shut behind them. Val and the girls were with the rest of the family doing last minute checks and taking multitudes of pictures. After a steamy shower and a hot breakfast, Carlos and I spent the wait for Lester in warm silence. Before, I had associated silence with boredom or indifference but now, I relished it, especially when I was wrapped in my man's arms. My man…I'm getting married again. I am actually getting married again.

After the disaster with The Dick, I came to the conclusion that a happy holy matrimony just wasn't in the cards for me. I had shitty taste in men and the husband I had ended up with hadn't even waited a month before he cheated. I knew in my head that his cheating wasn't my fault. The Dick had made the choice to disregard the Vows and to step out on me with Joyce. My heart (and Helen) screamed otherwise. If I had just been more attentive to his 'husbandly demands', if I had kept the house a little cleaner, if I had cooked a little better, if had been more demure…you get the picture. It took a long time for me to realize that it wasn't my fault but still, I had put marriage in a place between 'pie in the sky' and 'hell to the no' and walked away.

Then, I met Carlos.

The only thing that Joe Morelli ever did right in my book was engineering the circumstances that led him to become a Skip so I could take on his Bond because I highly doubt that I would've met Carlos without it happening.

Maybe I should send the bastard a thank you and a copy of the wedding album card to brighten up his jail cell…

My life is now divided into two distinct eras: Before and After Carlos. Before, I was afraid of being in a real relationship and content to go along with the status quo just enough to get people off of my back. I never fought for what I really wanted. I always went into Denial Land and scraped by. Now, things are different. The status quo is always going to be around. It's old as the Burg itself and many of its citizens but it didn't rule my entire life and actions, anymore. I could stand on my own two feet and in my own truth without giving a flying fucking damn about "what the neighbors/ Mr./Mrs. Fill in the Blank would think". I had found a career that I enjoy, that I thrive in. Instead of just Mary Lou, now I had over two baker's dozen of true friends who loved me for (and sometimes despite) who I am.

Even though Helen is gone for good, my family and I are strong together in love and acceptance. And…and I'm getting married again. I'm getting married to a man that I chose that turned out to be an excellent man. He's certainly not perfect but he is still excellent. He's strong and loving and supportive. He protects his own and he treats me like I'm on his level, like I'm worthy of respect and that I matter for more than what's between my legs. I…I…

"Oh, shit. Steph, don't cry…what's wrong?"

"…_h-happy_…" I croaked out between racking sobs before burying my face in Val's shoulder.

"Are you sure? This is like your funeral crying…"

I nodded fervently and Val squeezed me gently, not wanting to wrinkle my wedding gown.


	81. Chapter 81

**Author's Note: Does it still count as working on it if you keep the blank document at the top of your Word queue at all times? I think it does. Other than the first scenes, the majority of this chapter and the rest of them is going to be mainly improv but since you guys have proven to enjoy improv in the past (some of my best stuff written for Ranger and Steph weren't drafted), then I'm just going to quit overthinking things and go for it. Once again, thank you all for still supporting this story and for your patience. Only 3 more plus an epilogue after this one!**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_How'd he get in?"_

"_Picked the lock."_

"_How'd __**you**__ get in?"_

"_Picked the lock…look, get yourself a couple of deadbolts…and __**lock that shit up." **_

-Ranger and Stephanie in **One for the Money (2012)**

* * *

><p><strong>The Wedding pt. 2<strong>

**Steph's POV**

"Are you sure that you're not upset, Dad?"

"The last time I walked you down the aisle, it didn't work out."

"That wasn't on you. It happened because Orr was a dumbass and I was a dumbass for going through with marrying him instead of listening to my Spidey Sense and heading for the hills. I should've told Helen to stuff it."

"_**All **_of us should've told her to sit down and stuff it years ago. You and your sister would've been much better off."

"Maybe, maybe not…if life hadn't worked out the way it had, I wouldn't have met Carlos and Val wouldn't have her girls and Bobby."

"True…she should be here. She should be happy that you two are happy. She should…she should be a _**mother**_, damn it! A real one, not a viper wrapped up in tradition and pot roast recipes. If I had known, if I had just done something, anything to help…"

"Helen is Helen, dad. Even if you had been present, she would've found a way to be Helen. It's the toxic Burg influence and maybe the Mazur madness went with controlling and cold instead of wild and horny with her. I don't know. Only she, the shrinks, and God know for sure and nobody's giving up the goods. Look, it's my wedding day. It's my real wedding day and I'm happy. No, I'm _**joyful**_. For the first time in my adult life, I feel genuine joy and Helen is not allowed to take that away from me or anyone else today. The past is the past. You can't undo it. It's the present now and presently, you're here and that's really fucking awesome and that's what matters, okay?"

"…okay, Pumpkin. I'll be waiting at the end of the aisle for you."

"And thankfully, so will Carlos."

_**/**_

I'll be walking down the aisle by myself and I won't be doing it to the traditional bridal march.

When I hear it, I immediately go back to my wedding day with The Dick and all of the bad feelings the marriage caused me. The cheating not only pissed me all the way off, it took away a big chunk of my spirit, aided and abetted by Helen's "concern for my future". Part of the reason why I took the job and flat at Cho's was to get the hell away from her. I spent 8 months away from The Burg, changing all of my numbers and just being me. At the time, it had been scary but liberating, a feeling that I wished I had held onto after I got the job at E.E. Martin. I thought that I had been strong enough to get back in contact with my family and not revert back to bad habits…nope.

If E.E. Martin hadn't been raided, then I'd still be spinning my wheels and trying to force myself into a square hole to make everyone else (Helen) happy while I stayed miserable…no, not miserable…_**stagnant**_. I would still be in the stagnant holding pattern that I had become accustomed to. I would still be Stephanie "Walking Disaster" Plum, the wild child with mommy issues, never growing up fully. Stagnant is safe. Stagnant is familiar but all right, perhaps miserable is the right word, after all.

Anyway, I was very much against the bridal march and made it clear from the Jump. Carlos being Carlos and a man rolled with the decision easily. Just as long as I showed up and willingly walked down the aisle to him, I could walk to _**Fergalicious**_ or _**Thunderstruck**_ for all he cared. His mother and sisters, not to mention my legion of bridesmaids thought otherwise. They wouldn't push the bridal march on me but I certainly couldn't go without music or with garish music. I had a stack of CDs as tall as one of my file cabinets full of music but nothing had clicked. All of the other parts of the wedding, reception, honeymoon (and inevitable bloodshed) had been put into stone but I didn't have an entrance song. It was a small detail but one that I was determined to handle. I wanted to have a good wedding day with all of the fixings. It wouldn't erase what happened with The Dick but it would make it more like a joke than an emotional trauma….

The solution came from Lula.

One day while chasing skips, instead of throwback gangsta rap or the latest hit from Rihanna, she had pulled up blasting the Vitamin String Quartet. Tank had left a CD in her car during one of their Date Nights and she really liked the group. Surprisingly, so did I. Classical music usually makes me feel sleepy but hearing Fall Out Boy, Metallica, and AC/DC in such a familiar but unfamiliar way…as soon as I got home, I found huge playlists on YouTube and enjoyed. They didn't just have rock covers, they covered just about everything and did it well. Their tribute to Lady Gaga alone was a go-to for when I schlepped on the treadmill.

As soon as I heard their cover of Guns and Roses' '_**Sweet Child o Mine'**_ on the 'Wedding Songs' list 3 Mondays ago, I stopped what I was doing (sharpening the new daggers Hector had gotten me…) and calmly went down to 5. I walked straight into Carlos' office, plunked myself onto his lap, and restarted the track. His response was to wrap his arms around me and slowly rock us in his office chair, pressing a kiss to my exposed collarbone at the end…

"Stephanie?"

Breaking out of my reverie, I smiled at my soon to be mother in law and Caroline returned it gamely, showing me once again that Carlos is his mother's child. He has her smile and her way of looking at you and seeing everything…

"Hi, Mom."

"Are you ready, _**mija**_? It's almost time to begin."

"I'm ready, Mom."

It's so nice to have someone to call Mom again. I really don't miss Helen herself but I did miss calling someone Mom. I missed feeling like I had two parents, even if that turned out to be a lie for the longest time. I missed…I missed what having a Mom is supposed to be like and now, I have it and more. Caroline, Ricardo Sr., Gram, Dad…I have real parents and nurturers, present and accepting.

Better late than never, huh?

Peeking from behind one of the thick white curtains, I looked at the end of the aisle and saw Carlos. He was in all black except for his bowtie and the handkerchief in his pocket. His hair was tied back and his face was utterly serene, like he knew that he was in the exact right place doing the exact right thing. Tank was standing on his left, looking around the decorated space with pride in his eyes. Surprising everyone (but Lula), Tank had a real knack for decorating. He knew about color palettes and lighting and just…everything. Turns out, he was responsible for helping to design RangeMan Trenton's interior and the network of Jersey safe houses.

Our wedding colors are cream, plum purple as a tribute to my maiden name, and standard RangeMan black. The bridesmaid dresses and handkerchiefs are plum. The bow ties and the vests for the groom's side are cream. Chains of flowers crisscrossed above us and the seats, interspersed with rows of white and purple Christmas lights. The ceremony was taking place in a solarium and the view of the ocean outside, the gorgeous day…

The first notes of my entrance music made me jump but I could feel a deep sense of peace wash over me I picked up my bouquet. This was the absolute right thing to do. Marrying Ricardo Carlos Manoso was the absolute right thing to do, not just to flush out an enemy but just in general.

If it was possible, I'd run down the aisle to him but I don't want to risk tripping and falling on my face in my 5 inch white lace heels. I mean, if I did, it would be a typical "Jesus _**Christ**_, Stephanie!" moment and Carlos loves all of me, even my "Jesus _**Christ**_, Stephanie!" ways but still…no tripping and falling!

Thanks to a little DIY and Ella being a magical goddess, the previously snow white rose petals are now a blend of the wedding colors, almost looking like a houndstooth pattern. The carpet and 6 stairs leading to the aisle are a soft shade of blue but the aisle itself is black, covered with purple and white flower petals. As soon as I got to the bottom of the stairs, a gentle rain of more petals began to fall and I smiled brilliantly. Everyone had put in so much effort but it wasn't over the top or wrong like my first wedding. Each detail, each person in the room, each smile that blossomed over everyone's faces as I walked forward screamed of love and hope and correctness…

Especially the achingly soft answering smile on my Batman's face.

_**/**_

**Ranger's POV**

Although it would kill my mother and father to hear it aloud, I stopped really believing in God a long time ago.

Born Catholic, die Catholic, especially in the Latin American communities and while I still have a great amount of respect for the traditions there, I just…the idea of holiness has been tainted to me. Some of it happened during my teen years, when I plunged headfirst screaming into every bit of rebellion that I could get my hands on. I wanted to do whatever the hell I wanted to do at all times in all ways. The ideas of holiness and Catholic guilt ran counter to that mission so I started shoving it away, then. Not completely. Julie (who is beaming like a princess between Celia and Abuela Rosa) became holy to me, very precious to me. She was a product of mutual bad judgment but never a curse, never a regret. Part of the reason why I distanced myself from her was to protect her and to give her a shot of having a normal life with at least one normal parent that adored her. The other part was like I said to Steph on that faithful day in her apartment. I was much too brash and selfish to be a decent father, much less the father she deserved so I did the right thing. Rachel found a good and honorable man named Ron to settle down with and Julie…_**Jules **_was thriving. Not only was she thriving, she had enough room in her heart not just for me but for Steph and everyone else around up here.

Once I ended up in the Rangers and in the Dark Ops Circle…there's no room for holiness there. Not the pure kind that belongs in the Bible and in sweet romance novels. There's a different sort of holiness there, a grim and occasionally bloody one. The lives of women and children, the interests of the country that I served…that became holy to me, became as sacrosanct as Communion and blessings to me. All of the things I saw, all of the pain I endured…it was worth it. Everything that has happened to me, good and bad, has been worth it tenfold because it led me to Stephanie Plum.

She is holiness to me.

When she stopped in front of me, I couldn't help but reach for her. She's just…

"_You're beautiful, Babe._"

"_So are you…let's get married._"


End file.
